


31 Lives

by themakersruin (TKHikaru13)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Kinktober 2019, Thank you Tag Wranglers, a ton of kinks, and a metric fuck ton of aus, last I counted there were like twenty unique ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-11-26 23:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKHikaru13/pseuds/themakersruin
Summary: Countless times, I've known you. Countless times, your body has pressed against mine. If this cycle is a curse, it is the sweetest one.~Kinktober 2019 combined with various AUs.





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

> First Chapter functions as a table of contents more or less. I wasn't fucking kidding when I said there was at least twenty unique aus.

[Day 1 - Spanking/Thieves!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/49779275)

  * Summary: After a botched job, Emet-Selch needs to punish his apprentice.

[Day 2 - Voyeurism/Mobster!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/50650004)

  * Summary: In the criminal underworld, anything can be bought for any price.

[Day 3 - Tentacles/Merfolk!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/50802460)

  * Summary: How to fail at marine biology 101.

[Day 4 - Cunnilingus/Steampunk!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/50929375)

  * Summary: One has their priorities in order, and the other needs a nap.

[Day 5 - Bondage/Fifty Shades of Grey if it was written by someone who actually knows how BDSM works.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/51093652)

  * Summary: If nothing else, she could say that interning under Emet Selch wasn’t boring.

[Day 6 - Blow jobs+Masks/Masquerade!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/51650707)

  * Summary: Beneath a mask, enemy and ally are one and the same.

[Day 7 - Scent+Aphrodisiacs/Supernatural Hunters!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/51921370)

  * Summary: At the end of the day, at least they made it home.

[Day 8 - Creampie+Tights/College!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/52126804)

  * Summary: A liaison between a professor and his teaching assistant.

[Day 9 - Pet Play/Urban Sorcery!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/52723432)

  * Summary: First rule of dealing with summoned entities; leave them no leg room to twist requests.

[Day 10 - Hatesex/Superheroes+Supervillains!AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938307/chapters/53738776)

  * Passion's definition; a strong, uncontrollable emotion.

Day 11 - Mirror Sex+Formal Clothes/Dance!AU

Day 12 - Lingerie+Crossdressing+Biting/Vampire!AU

Day 13 - Pegging+Dirty talk/Before the Sundering

Day 14 - Fucking Machine+Praise Kink/BDSM!AU

Day 15 - Food play/Mobster!AU

Day 16 - Shibari/Yakuza!AU

Day 17 - Lap Dances/Burlesque Club!AU

Day 18 - Glory Hole/Wartime era!AU

Day 19 - Shotgunning/Bonny and Clyde!AU

Day 20 - Sex Work+Masturbation/Modern!AU

Day 21 - Edging+Size Difference/Demons!AU

Day 22 - Distension/Merfolk!AU

Day 23 - Corsets+Collaring/Vampire!AU

Day 24 - Begging/Musicians!AU

Day 25 - Monsterfucking+Bath Sex/Nun and Demon!AU

Day 26 - Breath Play+Orgasm Denial/Superheroes and Supervillains!AU

Day 27 - Sex Pollen+Xenophillia/Supernatural Hunters!AU

Day 28 - Overstimulation/Thieves!AU

Day 29 - Hand Jobs/Office Job!AU

Day 30 - Temperature Play+Degradation/Shaman and Elemental!AU

Day 31 Free Day/Canon


	2. Grind Me Down (day one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 - Spanking/Thieves!AU
> 
> After a botched mission, Emet-Selch teaches his apprentice a lesson.

The moment Hen stepped into the hideout, she knew she was in trouble. The others looked at her and even beneath their masks she could imagine the looks of disappointment, worry and disdain on their faces. A hush fell over the assembled thieves and she was dreading the moment one would rise.

Naturally, Nabriales stood up; Cúchulainn trailing after the Majestic like a dog hoping for scraps. Nabriales stopped a few inches shy of her and she didn’t even need to see his face to know the other was looking her up and down, taking in every tear of her garb.

“I take it you failed?” By all means it should’ve been a question, but Nabriales’s tone came across more as a statement. Hen fought the urge to cringe and simply nodded.

“Someone failed to mention my target was expecting me, I was caught off guard.” Hen replied, hoping that her tone was more even than irritated, or perhaps seething. Nabriales gave her a lift of his head, before motioning down the halls.

“You’re going to have to report to Zodiark, but I do believe you should inform Emet-Selch of your failure, Zalera. After all, failure of the student reflects poorly on the master.” Nabriales drawled and Hen had to curl her fingers into fists in an attempt to not slap the sneer she knew he had off his face. Nabriales patted her as if spurring a chocobo into movement and sauntered away, Cúchulainn snickering as they followed.

Hen stomped her way to the hall, trying to remember how to breathe properly lest the walls decay. She wasn’t the little pickpocket living from hand to mouth anymore, she was Zalera of Amaurot’s Thieves’ Guild and she’d rather die than become the sole stain on their (admittedly already dark) reputation.

Their system was their pride; fourteen of best thieves would take on the name of an Esper and an apprentice who would be named for the Esper’s counterpart. The former would teach the latter everything they knew and if found worthy, would take on the name and mask of the master to continue the cycle anew.

As far as Hen knew, no master had ever needed to forsake their apprentice, and she didn’t intend to start now. So she held her head high as she opened the door to the quarters she shared with Emet-Selch, hoping the show of pride would ease the sting of failure.

“Mast-”

“Spare me the formalities, I can already tell just looking at you.” Emet-Selch’s cold greeting was all it took for her false flag of confidence to fall, her shoulders slumping as she shut the door behind her. Emet-Selch stood at his desk, moving to meet her halfway across the room. He only stood a head taller than her, but his sheer presence never failed to make Hen feel small, like a mouse within a hawk’s gaze. He folded his hands behind his back, his garb pristine in comparison to the torn state of her gear.

“Unmask for me, Zalera.” Emet-Selch’s command was followed by the removal of his own mask, white bangs falling around piercing gold eyes that seemed... Hen couldn’t place the emotion as she removed her own, leaving it resting atop her red curls. Gloved hands sought her face, thumbs soothing over her cheeks. “Your face is unscathed... good. I would have killed your target with my bare hands had they breeched your mask.” he pulled her closer, enough that Hen could feel his breaths against her lips. “That they would have the audacity to lay a finger on you, I’ve half a mind to kill them anyway.” she felt his hiss of fury as much as she heard it before he desperately locked their lips together.

Within the guild, the masters and apprentices were expected to keep their relationships professional, yet it didn’t stop a token few from giving the rule lip service, saving illicit trysts for behind closed doors. Someone sighed, Hen couldn’t tell who as her hands found the front of Emet-Selch’s garb, fingers digging just as tightly as the ones in her hair.

His kisses were desperate, greedy; pushing his tongue across every inch of her mouth as if renewing his claim on her. Hen’s arms rose to wrap around his neck, intent on pulling him even closer. Emet-Selch growled, biting at her bottom lip before pulling away.

“H-Hades.” They allowed themselves to say each other’s true names in this space, their little secret among many others. Hades’ eyes softened, an arm at her waist as he walked them back towards his desk.

“My dear little bird…” he crooned, smiling down at her. It happened in an instant; one moment they were standing in front of the desk, the next he was pinning her upper body to it, holding one arm behind her back as he pressed her face into the wood. Hen could feel his hair tickle at the nape of her neck, lips hovering over the shell of her ear. “...you are in a lot of trouble.” those words came out in a hiss and had it been anyone else, Hen would’ve found them threatening.

Yet coming from Hades’ lips, that threat was empty, even as he undid the belts that kept her trousers up before slowly pulling them down along with her smalls. “It goes without saying,” he began, roughing squeezing her arse. “That I’m going to have to punish you.” she could practically feel her skin breaking under his nails before he let go. “Twenty swats.”

Before she could even ask if she was supposed to count them, Hades began. Each strike was deep and firm, timed so she couldn’t establish a rhythm. Her skin stung from the very first one and Hen knew sitting down would be her own personal hell for the next few suns. Yet she couldn’t deny how the sting of pain was swiftly turning into pleasure, her yelps and whimpers quickly growing into husky moans and cries.  
“Such a filthy little thing.” Hades crooned into her ear, teeth worrying the skin. “This isn’t quite a punishment anymore is it?” With him bent over her like this, she could feel his erection pressing into her thigh. Perhaps if she wriggled she could grind against it. Surreptitious as her actions were, it was impossible to hide anything from Hades.

He grabbed one of her cheeks harshly and Hen froze. “I wasn’t finished. Now where was I?” Hades murmured. Another swat met her arse, and she howled. This time she remained still, legs shaking as she lost count. How long had they been at this? Clearly long enough for Hades, who went for his belts if the sound of jingling metal meant anything. She could hear fabric rustling and the next she knew, his cock was between her lower lips. “So wet already, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you enjoyed this.” Hades purred, coating himself in her slick.

“Like this isn’t turning you on as well.” Hen taunted, wiggling her hips. The slow roll of Hades’ hips was the only response she got, before the head of his cock was pressing against her folds before he entered her. The action coaxed a moan out of Hen, digging her fingers into the desk. Hades took his time, every inch sending another shudder racing up her spine. When he finally bottomed out within her, he sighed, letting go of her arm to grab her by the hips and bring them flush with his own.

She wasn’t sure how long he sat there, letting her adjust to the girth. But she was certain when he began, each sinuous roll of his hips designed to ensure his cock hit her sweet spot. Hen whined, fingers threatening to splinter the wood beneath her. The slap of his skin against her own was the baseline for their carnal symphony; the creak of the desk, their shared moans and sighs.

His hand struck her bottom and Hen yelped, surprised by the sudden slap. “What, did you think I was done?” Hades asked and she could only whimper in return. Yet it was the only strike she’d receive, he seemed too focused on fucking her into the desk. His cock twitched with each thrust, breaths growing husky and she knew him all too well to know that he was on the peak of climax

“You know,” she gasped, “I fail to see how this is a punishment.” Hades leaned over her with a sinister chuckle, hot breaths fanning out over her neck.

“This isn’t your punishment my dear.” He groaned, pressing his head into her neck with a staggered moan as he slammed himself deep inside of her, cock pumping her full of his seed. Hen moaned, head thrown back in anticipation. Normally he’d kiss her here while those sinfully clever fingers would dive between them to attack her clit to bring about her own release. “This is.” Hades pulled away, softening cock slipping out from her clenching walls. She could only watch as he redressed, that evil little smile on his face.

For a moment, Hen simply laid there, processing what had just happened. And in the next she wanted nothing more than to throttle him. “Y-You! What about me? What about this mess?” she squeaked, getting up and facing him. Holy hells her entire body felt sore and Hades only fixed her clothes.

“You’re going to deliver your report to Elidibus and Zodiark with my seed inside of you.” Hades replied, pulling his mask over his face. “And perhaps when you return…” he tugged her closer again, lips just barely hovering over hers.

“... We can pick up where we left off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Hen got him back. But that's for another day.
> 
> The basis of the thief hierarchy comes from Final Fantasy Twelve, where the names of the Ascians save for Elidibus come from. The master thief is given the title of the Scion of Light, whereas their apprentice receives the title of the Scion of Darkness. Here, Hen is given the title of Zalara.


	3. Initiation (day two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - Voyeurism/Mobster!AU
> 
> Summary: In the criminal underworld, anything can be bought for any price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smb: makersruin it's November.
> 
> Me: Yes, yes it is. Blame my family moving into our new home for this being late.
> 
> smb: But it's not kinktober anymore.
> 
> Me: No but thank god for kinkvember being a thing.

In the criminal underworld, anything could be bought. Those words were on loop in Hen’s mind as she stood in front of the door to the speakeasy. Inhale, exhale, she could do this. Her hand rose to the door, two short taps and one long one. She counted the agonizingly long seconds before a small hatch in the door opened.

A red mask stared back at her. “What’s your business here?” a curt voice asked. Speakeasies dealt in code, a way to vet true customers from the rabble. Hen took a deep breath, then exhaled.

“My carbuncle has a sore throat, have anything to soothe the ache?” she asked. It was a deceptively simple code, being made purely of aether, carbuncles couldn’t have sore throats. The masked person behind the door seemed to look her over, before closing the hatch.

For a moment, everything was silent and Hen worried she’d made a mistake. Then she heard locks being undone and the door opened. The masked person - a man - stood, holding the door open for her.

“Hurry up, before the guards notice.” he grunted. Hen nodded, before stepping inside. He shut the door behind her immediately, following after her like a shadow. The two of them stood in what seemed to be a foyer, the masked man moving ahead to open yet another door.

Hen wasn’t sure what she expected of a speakeasy, but the dimly lit room certainly looked the part. She passed the various tables, trying to ignore the way patrons’ eyes followed her. Worse were the masked individuals, with their eyes concealed there was no way to gauge their intent. It left her nervous, regretting leaving her staff at home.

Music caught her ear and Hen turned her gaze to see a stage. Yet another masked man sat at a piano, clothed in white rather than the seemingly typical black of the others. His fingers danced over the piano, a light jazzy tune emanating from the instrument.

“Taken by the Emissary hm?” a voice came from somewhere ahead of her and Hen whirled, finding herself staring at another masked individual leaning over the bar. “Not surprised, for all his fussing, Elidibus really let's go when it comes to music.” They stood up, a casual smile on their face. “Come on, have a seat doll, let me whip something up for you.”

T’was here Hen remembered why she came in the first place. With a shaky breath, she marched right up to the bar, sitting at the stool and only fumbling when it came to actually getting on it.

“What can I get you?” asked the bartender. Inhale, exhale. Anything could be bought in the criminal underworld. Buying the knowledge to ask the right question had cost her the hairpin Tataru bought for her at the fair and she’d be damned if she was letting it go to waste.

“I need…” Inhale, exhale. “A debate with The Architect.” no sooner had those words left her mouth, a hush fell over the masked patrons of the speakeasy and Hen instantly felt eyes on her. The bartender took a step back, seemingly stunned before their playful composure returned.

“That’s a tall order doll. You sure you’ve got a topic the Architect will want to hear?” they asked. Hen twiddled her fingers. Inhale, exhale.

“Won’t know until I try.” she replied. The bartender bobbed their head, satisfied with this answer.

“Wait one moment.” they stepped back, and then away from the bar completely. Hen could hear quiet murmuring beneath the sound of the piano and prayed that it would be quick. She stared down at her feet, fists wringing at the fabric of her skirt. The sounds around her were deafened under the roar of blood in her ears as she tried to remember how to breathe properly. Inhale, ex-

“Miss?” The bartender’s voice had Hen squeaking as she turned to face them.

“Y-Yes?” she hated the fear in her voice, the way her hands shook as she let go of her skirt.

“The Architect will see you.” They held out a hand for her and Hen took it, slowly hopping down from the barstool. The creak of the floorboards was almost silent beneath the hammering of her heart and Hen wondered if terror could truly stop a heart. The bartender opened a door in a more secluded part of the speakeasy, leading her down the hallway. After a few moments, another door appeared.

“This is as far as I can go, what happens between you and the Architect is private. You have a bell before I come to check on you again...unless he ends it early.” the bartender let out a sick chuckle as they opened the door and Hen really didn’t want to know how The Architect ended a debate early. She felt a hard shove at her back, stumbling forward and falling to her hands and knees. From behind her, Hen could hear the door shut while in front, a man sighed and a glass was set down.

“I was told someone wanted to discuss business with me,” his voice came out in a condescending drawl and Hen shuddered, eyes shut tight. “But all I see here is a little bird tripping over her own legs.”

Opening her eyes, Hen found herself staring into yet another masked man. He wore a suit like the others, yet had seemingly forgone the jacket to simply sit there in the waistcoat and shirt. His hair was dark, save for one shock of white near his eyes. Gloved hands pushed the mask up to reveal a striking face, curved nose and golden eyes. A slow sneer curled his lips.

“But...I might be inclined to listen to a bird’s request. If she can carry herself properly that is.” An almost playful malice appeared in those eyes and all at once, Hen picked herself up off the floor, smoothing out her skirt. “There you go.” he drawled, picking up his glass once more. “Now, tell me...what brings a lost little sparrow like yourself here?”

Hen’s fingers dug into her skirt, fabric bunching at her palms. “My family...we’re...we’re being targeted.” The Scions were no strangers to gang activity, often investigating the varied groups to ensure that none threatened the star itself. And yet one, the Monetarists as they called themselves, had enough power to back up their threat.

Someone threw a bomblet into the soup kitchen and the little thing exploded before anyone could get it, she could still hear the screams as Urianger moved to shield the poor while Shtola puts out the fire

Hen whimpered, shaking her head. She opened her eyes to find the Architect smirking at her and for a moment, she felt like a mouse in the claws of a cat. “Targeted? And you want us, the Ascians to protect you and yours?” he downed his drink, chin resting on his hands as he leaned forward. “Little sparrow, I know where your roost is. Do you think your flock will take kindly to us?” the look in his eye is malicious and Hen shrank, eyes on the floor.

She knew full well of the antagonistic relationship between the two groups. Where the Scions mediated and tended to the victims of crime, the Ascians fought fire with fire, willing to nest in the underbelly of the city if it meant the innocent were safe. Hen nodded, looking up at him once more.

“I think that believing ourselves black and white will only cause more harm to innocent people. We of the light shine so you of the dark can hide in the shadow. We need each other.” Hen wanted to sound brave, wanted to sound like Minfilia when she spoke before the city leaders. But the Architect laughed, a hand at his knee as he shook his head.

“Need each other? Really? Little sparrow,” a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled, Hen yelped, feet moving without direction as she fell forward against something firm yet soft. Fingers - unclothed - grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up. The Architect was staring her down and once again, Hen felt like prey in a predator’s grasp. “You have a very, very skewed perception. The dark needs naught but itself, while the light...needs dark.” he purred, his other hand running down her body and it was here that Hen realized where she was.

Sitting in his lap, legs straddling his waist. Hen flushed, pushing up and away from him with her heart hammering in her chest. The Architect merely looked her over, a small smirk playing at his lips while his eyes threatened to burn a hole through her. “Your topic of debate is cardinally boring,” he whined, refilling his glass. “And yet, I find you yourself most interesting. The naïve heroine, walking into the villains’ den with the purest of intentions.” he turned his gaze to her once more, that smirk growing wider.

“T’is a shame then, that my intentions are impure by comparison.” he downed his drink, tugging off his remaining glove. “You want to make demands? Then I shall make some of my own. In exchange for the protection of your family, you belong to me. Does this sound fair to you my dear?” she could practically feel the malice in his gaze. He expected her to refuse, to run and never return. She didn’t come this far to only to turn heel at the first sign of danger.

“Yes.” Her life for her family’s, it was more than fair. The Architect’s eyebrows rose, stunned.

“Well, well, well. Brave little thing aren’t you?” that familiar smirk rose to his lips once more. “Strip. Slowly.”

“Wh-what?” she didn’t catch it at first, too stunned to truly comprehend those words. The Architect rolled his eyes, heaving a deep, dramatic sigh.

“Strip, my dear. Remove your clothes until you are bare before me.” he repeated, tapping a finger against the table next to him. “Every ilm of you is mine now, I’d like to see it.” Hen blinked, shaking. Inhale, exhale. She nodded, more to reassure herself. Her loafers clicked against the floor as she kicked them off. The coat came next, fingers shaking as they undid the buttons. Hen let the fabric slip past her shoulders to pool at her feet.

She looked up to see the Architect leaning forward, fingers steepled leaving her to only see his eyes. Eyes that were intently focused on her, an unreadable expression in them. Hen looked down at herself, reaching behind her back to undo the buttons of her dress. Each tiny snap felt as loud as a siren, feeling the fabric loosening around her. When Hen pushed her dress off, she could hear the Architect gasp, the noise galvanizing her into stepping forward in her slip and stockings.

Her hands smoothed up her curves, only now finding her cheeks aflame. She looked up at the Architect, the intensity of his gaze sending a hot pulse running down her spine and settling in her pelvis.

“L-Like what you see?” Hen murmured, a smile finding itself on her lips.

“Yes.” his answer practically came out in a hiss. Hen found herself liking the sound, hands finding the hem of the slip to pull it up over her body. Her underthings were all that were left, the bra coming off first. She cupped her breasts, the friction feeling oddly pleasant. Her nipples were hard yet she wasn’t cold. Poking at them was enough to get a gasp out of her, pinching them felt even better.

Her hands moved to her hips, when the sound of a zipper startled her. The sight of the Architect pulling his cock free greeted her, the flesh already hard under his hand. Heat rose to her cheeks, beyond walking in on the others in the bath on accident, she’d never seen a cock before. Something about the brazen display left Hen’s skin alight and sent a pang of delightful pain down her spine.

“Come on now.” The husky whisper was enough for another pang to run through her. Hands scrambled to pull the last piece of fabric off. She bit her lip as she stepped out of her smalls, fingers finding her lower lips. This wasn’t anything like touching herself in the bath, this was something else entirely and yet she was just as wet.

“That’s enough,” His snarl left Hen jumping. “Come here.” she was moving before she could even stop herself. The Architect’s hands were calloused as his fingers found her wrist, the other smoothing over her hip. “Lovely, so lovely.” he murmured, pressing two fingers against her labia.

Hen gasped, arching into the feeling. No one else had ever touched her so and the feeling of his skin against her own was addictive. His fingers rocked between her lower lips slowly, as if he was gauging each and every reaction. Two of those fingers pressed deeper into her and Hen moaned, leaning forward into him.

“So responsive to even the smallest touch, am I your first?” The malice in the Architect’s voice was more akin to teasing, fingers crooking against her inner walls. Hen whimpered, nodding shakily. The smile on his face turned into a smirk as his fingers pulled out of her and Hen whined, hips chasing after those digits. She felt strangely empty, needing something to fill the ache.

The Architect grabbed her by the hips, encouraging her to climb up onto his lap. “Then, allow me to ruin you for anyone else.” he laughed. “What am I saying? There’s never going to be anyone else.” he lined her up with his cock and a cry left Hen’s lips as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fingers clinging onto his clothes desperately.

“Before I begin, allow me to introduce myself. I am Hades.” he crooned, pushing her hips down as his rose. The stretch of his cock past her lower lips was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, a loud cry escaping her as she shook. “Now now my dear, we can’t let everyone know what we’re doing.” It hurt, oh did it hurt, yet beneath the hurt...pleasure simmered in her bones. Hen found her hips rocking, moaning into Hades’s shoulder as he slowly pushed deeper.

“There you go, see? Not so bad.” Hades murmured, voice strained as he finally bottomed out within her. He grasped her chin to lock their eyes together. She couldn’t quite parse the expression in his eyes, but something about it had Hen shivering as he leaned forward, lips seeking her own.

It wasn’t her first kiss (That belonged to Alisaie), but the way his tongue slipped through her lips to toy with her’s wasn’t anything she was familiar with. That didn’t stop Hen from trying to return it, her motions sloppy in comparison to his practiced ones. He sighed as his hand moved from her chin to the back of her head to work his fingers into her curls. Hades pulled away and Hen could faintly see a trail of spit connecting their tongues. He laughed, thumb at her hip stroking against the skin soothingly.

“I’m going to move now.” he whispered and Hen blinked, until she felt the sinuous roll of his hips underneath her. A soft moan escaped her lips, hips rocking to meet his. Hades went slowly, each thrust deep and measured, leaving Hen writhing in his lap. Inexperienced as she was, there was not much else she could do beyond take what she was given, trying to return it in equal measure.

The gesture seemed to amuse Hades nonetheless, the hand not at the base of her spine finding her breast. As he groped and squeezed at her flesh, Hen found herself reminded of the times Thancred drunkenly recounted the ways he pleasured his varied partners, playing with their chests.

But as a tongue wrapped around her nipple, Hen wondered if this was much better, squealing as her fingers tightened at Hades’s back. A roll of his hips had his cock brushing against something deep within her and Hen had to bite at his shoulder to prevent her shout. Hades grunted in pain.

“You’ve teeth little sparrow.” he chuckled, lavishing her neglected breast with attention. “And yet, it seems I’ve found the way to make you melt.” His hands found her bottom as he stood, turning to press her back against the chaise. He crawled after her, hips flush against her own. His cock somehow pressed deeper, right against that spot that made her limbs turn to jelly. Her legs rose on pure instinct, heels locking at his spine.

Hades smirked down at her, a hand at her cheek. “Oh, I am definitely keeping you.” he murmured, hips picking up once more. Gone was the slow sinuous rolling, replaced with harsh, deep thrusts. Hen arched her back, nails clawing against his waistcoat. “You clench around me so sweetly.” Hades panted, moaning on a particularly deep thrust. Hen burrowed her head in his neck. Everything felt far too good, far too overwhelming. She could feel something rising, unable to parse just what it was.

“Going to come are we? Go on. Come around your first cock.” Hades murmured, voice strained as his thrusts slowed, aiming for that spot within her. A hand pushed down to her lower lips, fingers searching for something.

Hen wasn’t sure what, but she knew full well when he found it. No sooner had a finger pressed against it, she yelped, a hot wash of pleasure crashing over her like a wave. Her back arched as white stars popped behind her eyelids. She could faintly hear Hades moaning, fingers digging into her hips as something hot filled her. Her body went limp, letting the pleasure run from her fingertips to her toes.

When she was finally aware again, she could see Hades looming over her, fingers between her lower lips. “What are you doing?” Hen hated how weak she sounded, finding herself incredibly sore.

“Cleaning you.” Hades replied, pulling his fingers free to lick something white from his digits. “Unless you want my seed to take root within you.” Those words were what allowed everything to sink in. She’d bedded an Ascian, letting him take her maidenhead. Yet...there was no regret, all she felt was sore and satisfied.

“W-What happens now?” she asked worriedly. Hades smirked down at her, a thumb running over her abdomen.

“We have a deal my dear. Your beloved family lives to see another sun.” Hades crawled atop her, caging her in. Hen shivered as his tongue ran up her neck, a moan escaping her lips. “And you...I’m going to ruin you in the most exquisite ways a man can ruin a woman.”

As he locked their lips together, Hen could only look forward to the threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another reason this took so long is because for one reason or another this chapter fought with me at every turn.
> 
> Not even sure why, considering Emet's a canon voyeur.


	4. Ocean Man (day three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to fail at marine biology 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you like some oviposition with your tentacles?

As Hen made her way to the shallows, she knew that one thing was certain, what she was about to do was one small step in the name of thirst and a great step in the name of science. Probably.

At the very least, marine biologists would be very interested in the results of the experiment, even if calling it such was rather...impersonal. Descending into the cove, Hen noticed vibrantly colored coral chunks strewn across the stones in a manner akin to candles. She couldn’t help but find the gesture adorable, even if it wasn’t quite accurate.

She shivered as she drew closer to the small pool of water, but not out of fear. Far from it actually. Hen could practically feel eyes watching her, and as she made it to the edge, she knew they’d been on her since the moment she arrived.

“Ah,” the sound echoed in the small cove, “You’ve answered my summons my dear.” Some part of Hen wondered deep down if some wires crossed in her brain, because the sight of the octomer sent a hot shiver down her spine. Hades lounged in the pool, tentacles coiling and uncoiling. She wasn’t quite sure which subspecies he was, no other octomer looked quite like him.

White hair with a streak of brown, yet the skin below the navel inverted those colors, a rich chocolate brown with flecks of white. “Come, come. I’ve been waiting for you.” he crooked two fingers. Hen pulled her sandals off, cutoff shorts following to leave her nude from the waist down. The water was cold against her skin, but Hades smiled, the serenity playing at his lips clashing with how his eyes seemingly devoured her. Two tentacles reached out to caress her calves and Hen gasped, steps faltering with a small splash as she stumbled.

It was Hades’s hands that caught her first, pulling her onto his lap. Then those tentacles moved, sliding up and down her thighs. Hen shivered, arms wrapping around his neck. One brushed dangerously close to the inside of her thigh and she whimpered, bucking her hips.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re impatient.” Hen sighed, biting her lip. Hades merely smirked, the tentacles coiling around her legs tightening.

“It’s mating season.” was the only response before he locked their lips together. Hen moaned into the kiss, lips parting for that insistent tongue. His hands found her hips, claws digging at the skin. Ah this, this is what Hen was familiar with. Kissing and some light grinding was the most she’d done with Hades, neither of them were truly sure on how to approach going further.

But as mating season approached, and Hades unwilling to mate with another mer, it seemed they’d have to figure this out. Hen gasped as her breasts were squeezed, unaware of Hades’s hands moving as she lost herself in thought.  
“Ah, not wearing any of those under things of yours. Now who’s impatient?” he teased.

“Sh-Shut up. I didn’t see the point considering.” Hen flushed, burrowing her head in his neck. A thumb rolled over her nipple and she whined, trying to roll her hips only to find tentacles holding her in place.

“Well, then I suppose we should begin now, shouldn’t we?” the husky whisper sent shivers down Hen’s spine, heart hammering against her chest. She looked up at Hades, gulping before nodding. The hands to pull her tank top off were her own while Hades’s repositioned her to face away from him.

Her arms wrapped around his neck once more, eyes wide as the tentacles at her thighs wrapped around them, spreading her legs apart. Two more rose upward to coil around her breasts, squeezing gently as yet another pair made themselves at home laying just above her pelvis. Hades huffed behind her, lips at her ear.

“Are you ready?” he asked. The tentacles at her abdomen drifted lower, slipping between her labia to push her lower lips apart. Hen shuddered, trying to swallow down her nerves. The two at her chest squeezed once more, tips toying with her nipples before latching onto the hardened nubs with its suckers. She shivered, hips rocking in search of some sort of stimulation. 

“H-Hades please.” Hen gasped. She felt yet another tentacle brushing past her thigh, this one was thicker and lacked the rows of suckers its’ brothers did. As it pressed against her lower lips, Hen flushed deeply, understanding its purpose.

“As you wish my dear.” Hades gave no warning, simply driving the tentacle in. A loud cry escaped her lips, back arching. Hades groaned behind her, letting his head rest against her shoulder. The tentacle within was thick, stretching her inner walls to their limits as it pushed as deeply as it could go.

The tip brushed against her cervix and Hen whimpered, toes curling. It felt odd, lukewarm rather than hot like a human’s cock. Hades moaned softly and the tentacle twitched.

“You feel incredible my dear.” he sighed, one of the tentacles holding her pussy open moving up to tease at her clit. The ones holding onto her nipples tugged and Hen whined, hips rolling. Hades gasped behind her and his cock-like tentacle gave a testing thrust, forcing a whimper from her. “I’m going to start now.”

The first initial thrusts were slow, as if afraid of hurting her. Hades pressed kisses into her neck as he picked up speed, tentacle pounding a little deeper each time, sending hot bursts of pleasure running up and down her spine. Above, he groped and squeezed her breasts harshly, rolling them in the grip of his tentacles as the suckers latched onto her skin. Hen moaned, hips rocking in time with Hades’s thrusts. Gods, why hadn’t she fucked him sooner? His tentacles were like hands, leaving no patch of skin untouched. As he squeezed her breasts in time with caressing her clit, Hen howled, head thrown back.

“H-Ha, we definitely should have done this sooner.” Hades panted, a hand soothing over her stomach. His fangs worried at the shell of her ear, tongue soothing over each bite. “I’m going to fill you until you’re swollen with my eggs and you leak my seed.” Hades snarled, a particularly harsh thrust pounding against her g-spot. Hen wailed, back arching. She wanted it, needed it.

“Y-Yes, please gods. Fill me.” she panted. She was so close, she could feel it. Hades kissed down her ear to her neck, growling softly. A snarl was the only warning she received before fangs sank into her shoulder. Hen wailed, inner walls clenching around the tentacle pounding against her g-spot. The thick shaft shuddered, releasing hot pulses of cum. 

The sensation was too much for Hen, climax taking her by surprise. White hot pleasure raced through her veins, inner walls holding tight to the tentacle, greedily trying to milk it dry. The pair came down from their shared high slowly, Hades pulling his cock-like tentacle from her pussy slowly.

“Nn.” Hen groaned, shifting slightly.

“Don’t move too much,” Hades murmured, bringing a new tentacle between her legs. “You’ll get my seed everywhere.” Hen looked down at the new arrival, mouth going dry at its appearance. It seemed segmented, almost like a necklace of beads.

She knew better though as it slipped past her lower lips slowly. This one was full of eggs, eggs that would soon be inside of her. The new tentacle wasn’t as thick as the other, but certainly bigger than she would have anticipated. It nestled itself as deeply as possible, pulsing slowly. Hen looked down, amazed at the sight of the tentacle distending her skin. Hades merely groaned, adjusting his grip on her.

“I’m going to start.” he huffed, nose brushing against the skin of her shoulder. No sooner had he said that, the tentacle swelled, depositing the first egg. Hen shuddered as it pressed against her g-spot.

“H-How many did you say you had?” she asked with a nervous laugh.

“I never bothered keeping count. Enough.” Hades replied, a soft moan leaving him. More eggs followed and Hen trembled with each one as they pressed against each other and her inner walls, her fingers digging into his skin. She tried to keep count, but lost track after...six? Seven? She wasn’t sure anymore and the tentacle’s cycle of swelling and shrinking accompanied by the feeling of being so full was making it hard to think.

Hades grunted, wriggling the tentacle and stirring up the eggs and cum inside of her. Hen whimpered, toes curling. The eggs kept brushing against her g-spot, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“H-Ha, H-Hades!” she whimpered, grabbing him by the back of the head to lock their lips together. Hen shivered as their tongues tangled. Another thrust of the tentacle and she was sent over the edge, vision blanking out as warmth spread across her limbs. Faintly, she could feel his tentacle pulling away, stopping at the entrance of her pussy to release a glob of something chilly and slimey before finally withdrawing completely.

Hen blinked lazily, opening her eyes and looking down. She looked pregnant, stomach swollen. A hand slowly moved to her abdomen, pressing down to feel the eggs beneath her skin. That hand drifted lower, wincing as her fingers found her lower lips. The slime had hardened, its consistency similar to glue.

“Hades what the fuck?” Hen breathed, turning to look at him. Hades smirked.

“A plug to keep the eggs in.” he replied, realization dawning on his face. “...Heat it up and it’ll melt.” Hen just sighed as he unwound his coils, marveling at the imprints of his suckers on her skin. She leaned back, a contented smile on her face.

“Could they actually take root?” Hen mused. Hades turned pink, looking away.

“Does it matter?” he huffed. “...What would we even name them?”

“Let’s name one Oceania.” she offered. Hades snorted.

“You’re terrible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hades's species of merfolk are hermaphroditic in that they can both inseminate and carry young. However, they cannot breed asexually, and thus need a willing host.
> 
> And for the record, yes I went there with this chapter's title.


	5. Flying Machine (day four)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - Cunnilingus/Steampunk!AU
> 
> Summary: One has their priorities in order, and the other needs a nap.

“Emet, come help me with this.” Not a moment after she asked, Emet sighed.

“This is the third time you’ve called me over darling.” and yet he’s there, mask pushed up over his face as he walked over. “There’s no one else here either, you don’t have to bother with titles  _ Zalera _ .” she fought the shudder that threatened to run up her spine at the way he said her title.

“You never know.” she huffed, turning away from him to look at their Concept.

If naught else, the frame of metal was impressive in both size and the finer workings that made it. Blending Creation magics with metallurgy was a precarious balance, shift the scales too far to one extreme and the whole thing could go up in smoke or worse.

Which is why she was so proud of their Concept. It was a seemingly autonomous frame, but where one would think the head was, laid a space for someone to fit inside. All one needed to pilot the frame was infusing ones own magics into the core that connected to others in the limbs of the Concept.

They’d poured blood, sweat, tears and their very souls into the Concept, couldn’t even count how many prototypes they’d gone through before finally settling on the Concept that stood beside them.

“So my dear, you said you needed my help.” Emet purred and she had to roll her eyes.

“Focus.” her reply was curt, pointing up at the underside of the cockpit. “I think the compartment holding the main core is loose.” Emet rolled his eyes and she almost wanted to smack him.

“We’ve checked the compartment for the main core at least a dozen times now Zalera. It was perfectly fine the last time we checked on it, and it’s going to be perfectly fine this time.” he drawled, moving closer. “You’re fretting over nothing.”

“How do you know?” she snapped.

“Because every time the Convocation has a Concept faire you work yourself up until you’re inventing problems where there are none.” Emet replied, a hand on her shoulder. “Darling, it’s late. Let’s rest up and if you’re still worried we can check on it in the morning.”

She swatted his hand away, moving to the underside of the cockpit.

“Last time we waited on a Concept it backfired and Nabriales couldn’t let me work without a snide comment each time he passed our station and I refuse to let him mock me a second cycle in a row.” Her hands pressed against her own hips. “Give me a boost, Emet.”

To his credit, Emet followed. Without warning, his hands overlapped hers at her hips, lifting her into the air with ease. She yelped, taken off guard as he hooked her thighs over his shoulders, hands moving to support her backside.He looked up at her with a smirk, mirth playing in those golden eyes.

His head laid between her thighs and something about their positioning combined with the smirk had her flushing.

“Don’t try anything funny while I’m in here.” she warned, undoing the seals on the hatch with a careful hand. “Watch your head.” she murmured as it swung backwards, just barely missing his head as he ducked it. Something pressed at the inside of her thigh, and looking down presented her with the image of Emet with his nose rubbing firmly at the inside of her leg, the cheeky bastard pressing a kiss to the fabric.

“Focus, we’ve work to do.” she huffed, reaching to pull herself deeper into the opening. Beneath the cockpit was relatively easy to maneuver around in; only a few panels and wires blocking her from the setting for the primary core. Looking at it this close, it didn’t seem that loose. But she had to make sure, her pride as the Fourteenth of the Convocation was riding on this.

“Found it!” she called, gently testing the setting holding the core in place. It jostled a bit too much for her liking. “You hear that?”

“Yes, it’s the normal amount of noise for the core’s setting. It’s supposed to have some give to it, we’ve tested this.” Emet called back. She could feel his breath against her skin, even through the fabric of her coveralls. “Zalera darling, come back down.”

“No.” some part of her knew she was acting like a petulant child, but she refused to stop now, reaching into one of the pouches on her harness for a wrench. Something brushed at her waist and she froze. One of his hands squeezed at her thigh and she relaxed.

‘ _ A stray breeze. _ ’ satisfied with that reasoning, she went to her work. The fastenings holding the setting received a good tightening, though they didn’t move that much. Beneath the sound of the gears, she could hear a zipper moving. ‘ _ It’s nothing. _ ’ putting the wrench back, she frowned. ‘ _ Are those wires fraying or is it just...wait, we hooked up those wires last week, they shouldn’t be fraying now. ...Maybe Emet’s right, I should rest. _ ’ Something warm pressed against her bare skin and she yelped.

“Everything alright?” Emet’s voice was as innocent as a child, but she knew better.

“Y-Yes! Just gonna feel the wires.” she called back. “Verify their...y’know.”

“Yes yes, carry on.” The tone in his voice was far too close to smug for her liking, but she pushed it out of her mind. Biting at the fingers of her glove, she wrested the cloth free, letting it fall to the floor as her fingers smoothed over the wires. Smooth as the sun they’d fitted them into the Concept’s frame. She bit her lip, looking into the space for something, anything she could fix.

Lips pressed against her skin and she groaned, hips moving forward on instinct. “S-Sorry!” she managed to blurt out, hands pressing at the bottom of the hatch. “I’m...gonna check on the gears.” A muffled affirmation was all she got in return. With a roll of her eyes, her ungloved hand smoothed over the gears. They turned fluidly, no friction. Teeth worried at her thigh and she screamed, nearly tipping back in the hatch.

“H-HADES!” the desperation in her voice unsettled her, only to fade as those teeth moved higher, each nip followed by a kiss. “E-Emet please…” she whimpered, feeling her thighs quiver. “This isn’t the time.”

‘ _ How else am I to get you to stop? _ ’

Speaking directly into her mind was a dirty tactic and she kicked at his back lightly.

“Don’t! I’m fine.” eyes scanned the inside of the hatch. Gears, wires, the setting for the core...Wasn’t there something she could fix or reassess or-

A tongue lavished at the junction where her thigh met her nethers and she moaned, fingers curling at the metal. Emet repeated the action, this time a touch closer to where she needed it and only then was she aware of the ache settling beneath her stomach.

‘ _ You need to relax my love. _ ’ His tongue finally, finally found her lower lips and she damn near sobbed, thighs clenching around his head. She shifted lower, practically sitting on his face as she descended to keep from bumping into anything. Emet’s tongue swirled around her clit, lips vibrating as he hummed into her sex.

“H-Ha, please.” Her eyes slid shut, hips rocking into Emet’s face, that nose of his bumping against her clit and sending another wave of pleasure through her. He chuckled, dipping his tongue down to her folds.

‘ _ There you go darling. Ride my face. _ ’ She wasn’t about to disobey that command, a hand reaching downward to fist itself in white locks. She could faintly feel a change in the aether around her thighs, wondering what he was planning. She didn’t have to wait long, a loud squeal leaving her lips at the feeling of his tongue press between her folds, thicker and longer as it moved into her.

“Using Creation like this,” she panted. “What would Elidibus say?”

‘ _ He’d tell me to finish the job. _ ’ hands curled into her thighs, keeping her pinned there as he fucked her with his mouth, tongue driving in and out much like a cock. She shuddered, hips rocking against him. She wasn’t going to last long, not when he was willing to use Creation this way.

“Hn, ha, Emet...I’m, I’m so-” she panted, her grip on the hatch loosening.

‘ _ Call me by my name. _ ’ Fingers dug deeper into her thighs and she groaned.

“H-Hades.”

‘ _ Good girl. _ ’ Approval flowed through her and she arched her back, coming with a cry as she let go of the Concept’s inner frame, allowing herself to fall. Hands caught her as she rode out her orgasm, warm contentment filling her body. When she opened her eyes, Hades was looking down at her, a satisfied look on his face.

“Feeling better?” he asked, reaching up to snap his fingers. The hatch closed once more, sealing shut as if it had never opened to begin with.

“Much.” she replied, looking down. The hands holding her were larger, darker than his normal ones and she pouted. “You used your other form.” Hades laughed, human arms reaching out to cradle her.

“Only slightly. How else do you think I managed to get my tongue so deep into you?” he asked, turning to walk away from their Concept. She found herself flushing, the idea of using that form for this…

“Now, let’s get some sleep. We can work tomorrow.” he sighed. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“After this...maybe you can use that form’s tongue on me?” she asked, innocent only in tone. Hades smirked at her.

“After we win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you look closely and tilt your head, you can see makersruin's praise kink.
> 
> For some reason my brain insisted that I keep Hen's Amaurotine name a secret. On one hand, inconvenient, on the other...you can very well potentially use this chapter as a reader insert if you're so inclined.
> 
> Also steampunk is one of my favorite genres/aesthetics/whathaveyou and having an excuse to write it was wonderful, I might revisit this particular au again but my plot bunnies are multiplying as bunnies do so...[shrugemoji]


	6. Working Hard (day five)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - Bondage/Fifty Shades of Grey if it was written by someone who actually knows how BDSM works.  
If nothing else, she could say that interning under Emet Selch wasn’t boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one started in one direction and ended in a completely different one. Not the happiest with this one, as it fought with me much like day two did, but I'm tired of looking at it so here.

If nothing else, Hen could say that interning under Emet Selch wasn’t boring. Not that it would be, considering the man was one of the leaders of the Convocation, thirteen of the greatest alumni of the Akadaemia Anyder, who were more than happy to let graduating students shadow under them for a bonus to their GPA.

The description for the hours seemed simple enough, interning was little different from acting as an assistant in the case of others. But with Selch...it seemed the words intern translated to babysitter.

“Mr. Selch?” Hen called, arms folded as she stood at the foot of the bed of the man in question. Selch continued to snore, burrowed under what had to be at least three blankets. Hen sighed, walking to the side of the bed. The clock on the nightstand read 9:30 am, far too close to 10:20 am, which is when they needed to be at the site of the new building.

“Mr. Selch? I really need you to wake up.” she hesitantly moved a hand to shake at his shoulders. All Selch did was roll over with a grunt. Hen nearly whined, slumping to her knees. “Sir we’re gonna be late if you don’t get up.” 

Why did she do this? She wasn’t even majoring in architecture. Honestly she wanted to intern under Halmarut, but someone else had already snatched the chance away. Leaving her to intern under the one alumni who she was half certain didn’t truly earn the title.

“You, are going to be late.” a voice croaked from the burrow of blankets. Hen looked up to see bloodshot eyes gazing back into her own. “The leader of the project arrives exactly when they need to.” His eyes shut once more and Hen wanted to smack him.

“Mr. Selch, your second in command asked me to get you up at a decent hour because we’re falling behind.” her voice did not come out in a wail nor did she cling to the bed as if it was her only lifeline. A hand descended onto her curls, causing her to look up. Selch had poked his head out, all bleary eyes and bed mussed hair. A wry smile graced those lips and Hen attempted not to swallow her tongue as she gulped.

It really was unfair how attractive he was.

“Are we? You should have led with that my dear.” he sat up, blankets falling low on his hips and Hen politely looked away, her eyes finding the wall very entertaining. “Wait outside, I’ll be there shortly.”

* * *

If speaking with Selch made her wonder how the man earned his place in the Convocation, actually watching him work firmly reminded her.

“What is this?” he shouted, examining the foundations for what was going to be the next high rise. The construction workers cowered and Hen had to hold a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Look at this, do you really think this sorry excuse for a foundation is going to hold?” Selch swore colorfully under his breath, practically ripping off his suit jacket. “Intern! Toolbox!” Hen jolted, grabbing one from the slack hands of one of the workers. Selch undid his tie and rolled up his sleeves and Hen had to count down from twelve to one in order to keep herself calm. “Thank you dear.” he huffed, rummaging in the box for...she wasn’t quite sure, but she knew when he found it.

“There we go, honestly, if you want something done right do it yourself.” Selch continued to mutter and Hen simply watched. He expected perfection in his work, and that of those under him. She’d found his habit of shouting at his workers harsh, but after a few weeks, she understood. There was no margin for error in architecture, errors could result in injury or worse.

“Thank you Intern.” Hen blinked.

“Excuse me?” she asked. Selch looked her in the eye and Hen tried not to shiver.

“For waking me up on time.”

Line break goes here

“You’re infatuated.”

Hen let her head thunk against the table, face down.

“Can you not state the obvious in the middle of the library?” she groaned. As much as Alphinaud was her friend, she loathed his habit of being able to pinpoint what was bothering her and say it. 

“You’re sulking, how can I not?” he replied and Hen finally lifted her head.

“This isn’t allowed! I’m not allowed to want my superior with my GPA and recommendations riding on this!” she smacked her hands on the table, quickly looking around. No one else seemed to be noticing her crisis so it seemed she was good to rant. “Can you even imagine the scandal it would cause? He’d lose his spot on the Convocation at best and I’d be fertilizer.” her head hit the table once more. “Why did I go with Mr. Selch? Lahabrea’s an ass, but I’m good at public speaking.”

“Or at the very least airing out your dirty laundry.” Alphinaud said calmly. Hen glared up at him. Stupid global studies majors. It only rubbed salt into the wound that he’d managed to intern under the Convocation member of his choice, Elidibus.

“Alphy, what the fuck do I do?” she whined.

“Take a gamble with everything on the line or walk away knowing everything’s safe but forever wonder.”

Hen just groaned in response.

Line break here

She’d resolved to bury the feelings for the sake of her GPA(not to mention everything else riding on this internship), to only stare and fantasize, but nothing more. The former was easy, especially with Selch taking a hands on approach in the construction. The man looked far too good in coveralls, especially when he removed the top half.

Why did he have to be her type?

The later half of the equation was becoming much harder however. Despite only being an intern, Selch saw fit to bring her to the site, and more often than not, work right beside him. Construction was not one of her stronger suites, but working her gardens did give her experience with hours working under the sun.

At the very least, Selch didn’t see fit to shout at her. He did however, insist on hands-on teaching. More than once did he seemingly appear behind her, hands on top of her own as he corrected a mistake she made.

“Stop.” she froze as that word was nearly hissed into her ear. This close, she could practically feel the fabric of his shirt behind her. Selch stood behind her as his hands closed over her own. “...tell me, do you notice anything wrong?” All Hen noticed was the feeling of him behind her, his hands on her and the smell of wood he’d seemingly absorbed. But she looked up at her work. One of the rivets she’d placed wasn’t in line with the others.

“Third rivet in the group, it’s off center.” she answered. Before she would have pointed at it, but Selch’s hold on her hands meant she had to verbalize what she saw. Selch behind her hummed and the sound sent a shiver up her spine.

“Very good. Let me show you how to remove it, and then place it right.” it wasn’t a purr, but it sounded far too close to it. Hen simply watched him manipulate her hands, pulling the rivet out before correcting the mistake. “I know this isn’t the work you’re majoring in, but I do hope something sinks in.”

Selch’s voice sounded far, far too amused and Hen frowned.

“Of course, you really think I’m going to just throw away what you’re teaching me just because it isn’t my work? I can apply this elsewhere.” she retorted and Hen swore she heard a soft snicker.

“This is why I like you. You listen, but you aren’t afraid to speak your mind. Good work.” Selch let go, but not before patting her head. She froze again, trying hard not to forget what he’d taught her. Selch returned to what he was doing, and Hen found the air between them tinged with what she could only define as smugness.

* * *

“Is invading my personal space flirting?”

“Only if you’re looking for signs everywhere.” Alphinaud didn’t even look up from his book. Hen could only whine.

Five weeks gone, and only six more to go before her internship was over. This was going to take every ounce of strength she had.

* * *

_It_( the word needed italics in her mind) happened less than three days later in his office. A conversation with Selch, something about the quickly forming foundation when he suddenly interrupted her, reaching forward to grab her by the chin.

Hen gasped, the feeling of his leather gloves all too wonderful on her skin. She tried to speak, to ask what was going on when he held a finger to his lips.

“Quiet. Listen.” he whispered. Unable to speak, it was all she could do. Faintly, from behind a door came voices.

“-at little intern of his gets on my nerves. Always looking at him like he’s hot shite.”

“Really? I’d like to get her away from him, show her a real man.”

Hen’s eyes widened. She knew the construction workers didn’t care for Selch, but this? Selch looked from the door to her.

“I’ll have to let those two go after today. A shame, but I’ll not risk your safety for want of hard workers.” Selch sighed. She shook her head as best she could, a hot wash of shame overtaking her.

“I-It’s nothing, I’ll just keep an eye out for mysel-” Selch’s grip on her chin tightened and she instantly stopped, heart racing.

“As much as you work here, you are still a student of Anyder. Anything that happens to you here reflects on my status as your mentor. Is that clear?” despite the question, his grip at her chin held fast, Hen could only nod. There was something in Selch’s eyes akin to satisfaction as he stepped closer. Stumbling backwards, her back hit the door.

“...Well, well, well… if I didn’t know any better I’d say you enjoyed this.” he whispered, the curve of his lips growing malicious. “Do you?” he asked. She gasped in response, nodding as the heat of shame quickly turned into a different kind of heat, one that traveled down her spine to settle at her navel.

That hand released her chin, only to travel down to her neck to hold it firmly. Her breaths quickened, much shallower due to the pressure. Her head felt like it was spinning, but...this felt good. Her hands reached up to grasp his wrist and Selch leaned closer.

“And this?” the whisper was pure poison and she drank it down like it was an antidote.

“Mr. S-Sel-” she began, but he squeezed lightly.

“Ah, ah. If you are going to address me, it’s ‘Master’ or nothing else.” his grip lightened enough for her to breath again and the sounds between her gasps of air were filthy. “Answer my question, pet.”

“Y-Yes.” Hen whimpered. She should be scared, should scream for help. But right now she was more turned on than she’d ever been and desperately needed him. Selch smiled, lips at the shell of her ear.

“Yes what?” he repeated. Her reaction was almost instantaneous, bucking her hips into his as her head lolled back.

“Yes Master.” those words seemingly flipped a switch in Selch. He let go of her neck to outright pick her up, carrying her to the desk. Said desk was tidy, but it didn’t stop him from pushing the few papers to the floor before setting her down.

“M-Mis-” Hen began. Selch silently interrupted her, tongue diving between her open lips. She gasped softly, arms rising to wrap around his neck. Selch grabbed her wrists, pushing them behind her back as he ripped his tie off, winding it ‘round her wrists before tying it. Hen tugged on pure instinct. There was some give, but not enough for her to pull free.

“We’ll make do for now.” Selch purred, a hand in her hair as he pressed desperate kisses into her neck. “Now, if you want me to stop at any point, say ‘red’. I’ll untie you, check your wrists for abrasions and we’ll discuss how to move forward.” he explained. “Otherwise…” there was a soft growl as he returned to kissing down her neck, teeth nipping at the skin of her collarbone. She moaned mindlessly, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

The Akademia was going to have her head for this, if not his as well. Hen pushed that thought out of her mind as Selch’s hands soothed over her body, moving under her shirt. “Oh my dear...you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” he breathed, pulling her shirt and bra up over her chest. “Wanted that clever tongue of yours on my cock, wanted to bend you over the workbench…” Hen squeaked when Selch’s hands groped at her flesh roughly. “And that’s just the fantasies in here. I’ve built up quite a few over these past weeks.” Teeth worried at a nipple and it took everything in her not to scream.

Selch stood up, one hand undoing his belt as the other rummaged through his coat. “...damn it, the one time I don’t…” he murmured as he freed his cock. Hen blinked, this was happening...this was genuinely happening and she wasn’t quite sure how to process it. But he was pulling her bottoms down, a hand moving under her her underwear to press a finger against her slit. Hen moaned, only now aware of just how wet she was.

“Mmm, nice and wet. Enjoying this are you?” he asked, pressing a finger into her. Hen shivered, hips rocking into his touch.

“Y-Yes Master.” her words coaxed a growl from Emet and he grabbed her hips, lining himself up with her before entering in one, fluid thrust. Hen bit at her lips to prevent the shout from leaving her. A touch thicker than what she was expecting but any pain is lost in the haze of pleasure as he hilted inside of her.

“Oh, I am keeping you.” he moaned, thrusts slowly but surely picking up. Hen arched her back, unable to do anything else beyond take. It felt incredible, she felt full to near capacity as Emet’s cock pounded her mercilessly. A hand rose from her hip to wrap around her neck and Hen whined, hips rising to meet his.

“That’s it, good girl. Focus on nothing else but me.” Emet spoke softly, peppering light kisses against her lips as the lack of air started to make her feel dizzy. He let go, hand moving to support the back of her head as the other moved to her clit.

Her toes curled, legs shaking as his thumb swirled over her swollen nub. Emet laughed, biting at the shell of her ear. Another roll of his hips and she was undone, her shout muffled as Emet locked their lips together. Two more thrusts and Emet followed, a low moan escaping him as he filled her. Hen slumped forward, awareness hazy. She was faintly aware of her hands being freed, someone murmuring and being carried.

Line break here

When her awareness came back, Hen found herself in Emet’s lap, his coat wrapped around her. A hand stroked through her hair soothingly and she couldn’t help but nuzzle into the affection.

“...Did that…” she asked.

“Really happen? Yes, yes it did.” he replied, smiling down at her. “I...admit it was a most boorish approach, but you know what they say, seize the moment.” Hen could only exhale at him.

“Well I liked it.” she laughed weakly. “...So, ‘Master’ huh?” Emet gave her a look.

“I may be into the idea of dominance and submission...along with some bondage.” he sighed, a wry smile on his face as he rubbed his temples. “I am going to have to give you a crash course aren’t I?”

“Perhaps.” Hen let her head fall against his chest, an odd feeling of contentment washing over her. “...we’re gonna have to keep this secret if it becomes a thing, you know that right?” Emet just snorted.

“Let me have this, we’ll worry about later later.”

  
“Whatever you say,  _ Master _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up being more breathplay than actual bondage but ah well.


	7. Uninvited (day six)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 - Blow jobs+Masks/Masquerade!AU
> 
> Beneath a mask, enemy and ally are one and the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an absolute slut for masquerades so I had the basic outline for this one primed and ready from the word go, even if the motivation and words escaped me at times. Credit where credit is due, said outline is inspired by a roleplay I did with a good friend, whom I love to bits.
> 
> Shiny new gwibers to whomever can spot the Romeo + Juliet homage.

If there was anything else Hen hated beyond the dark, it was parties like this. Or rather, the kind of people these parties seemed to attract. Why was nobility even called that? When she thought of the word noble, heroes were what she thought of, not Spoken gorging themselves on fineries they didn’t earn and bickering on how to take more from those who had naught to give.

At the very least, this mission didn’t require her to interact with any of them. Thank Hydaelyn for that, after Ul’dah, she wasn’t sure about how well she could hold her tongue. In fact, the less she interacted with the ‘nobility’, the better.

It was simple, somewhere within this manor was the relic they needed to enter the Hidden City. Having been unable to acquire an invitation through honest and dishonest methods, the only way was to sneak in uninvited. Much to her irritation sadly, it meant nobles’ clothing.

Hen missed her armor, it was easier to move around in, much lighter. Not to mention the shoes were a lot more comfortable. She’d begged to go in as a guard, or even in a suit. But Tataru didn’t budge, the Warrior of Light was getting a gown worthy of a fine lady whether she liked it or not.

At the very least, Tataru saw fit to give her a simple traveling cloak. One that proved to be handy as she squeezed through a gap in the bushes surrounding the manor, courtesy of Feo Ul. She did feel bad though, leaving it behind. But it would make her stick out like a sore thumb, so she set it down on a table as she wove her way into the party. 

So long as Hen acted like she belonged there, no one would assume otherwise. That didn’t stop her from keeping to the shadowy portions of the manor. Most seemed to be clustered in the center of the room and Hen was reminded of bees surrounding a hive.

A flash of color out of the corner of her eye had her whirling to face it. Another woman who looked exactly like her stared back. Two identical hands reached out, Hen felt the chill of glass through her silk glove and blinked, stepping back. Had she not spent weeks watching Tataru craft the gown, Hen wouldn’t have realized the ethereal beauty before her was herself. As the party was a masquerade themed after flora and fauna, Tataru had seen fit to base the ensemble after the doman magpie.

The gown itself was made up of three parts; a dress in a shade of blue so deep it looked black, a white underskirt and what seemed like a sleeved train, made up of a translucent blue fabric that trailed behind her. The subtle beak of her mask (in similar colors) only strengthened the image of a bird.

Hen held her hands over her mouth, scarcely able to parse that the woman in the mirror and herself were the same person. A chill against her back had Hen squeaking, whirling again. Fish floated in front of her and she let out a self deprecating laugh. The chill was from the glass of an aquarium, nothing else. She stepped closer, allowing herself to be enchanted by the colorful fish as they swam without a care in the world. Movement far too large to be a fish broke her from her reverie, stepping away to get a better look.

Someone stood on the other side of the aquarium, pale eyes following her every move. They were tall, taller than her by at least a head. The details of their costume was hazy through the glass, but she could make out a red suit, a dusky cloak of feathers and mask that seemed more akin to a headdress, plumed with large, pale red feathers. 

The other (The broad shoulders brought to mind a man, but perhaps they were a roegadyn woman?) tilted their head quizzically, the action only strengthening the impression of a bird. Hen shivered, feeling as though she was being stripped by those eyes. She curtsied politely, before turning and shuffling away as quickly as she could.

Paranoia sent questions whizzing through her mind. Were they sizing her up as a potential partner? Had they thought she was someone they knew? Had she been found out? Her heart hammered in her chest as she walked, eyes searching wildly for somewhere to hide. After a few moments she found it; a doorway leading into a hall. Hen breathed a sigh of relief, turning towards it.

She made perhaps five steps towards it before a clawed hand seized her by the arm, pulling her backwards and turning her. The masked stranger from before gazed down at her, lips curling upward.

“A-ha. What a lovely little bird you are.” He(the voice was definitely masculine) crooned, the hand not holding her arm falling to her shoulder. Glancing downward, she caught sight of claws decorating the gloves he wore. This close, she could make out the finer details of his costume. The coat of feathers was made of fabric cut to look like feathers, the inside of the cape a cream color contrasting against the black of the outside and the deep vermillion of his suit.

“Forgive my intrusion, but I do try to greet all of my guests.” the hand on her arm withdrew, sweeping over his chest as he bowed. “I am Emet-Selch, and I am most pleased to see you here.” the smile on his face quickly turned malicious, like a predator that found their prey. “Alas, due to my habit to greet all of my guests personally, I’ve a tendency to recognize the faces of my friends, even beneath foreign masks.” the hand at her shoulder gripped tightly, claws threatening to puncture through delicate fabric down to her skin. “Yours however...I do not.”

Her blood ran cold. Emet-Selch was the owner of the manor, and host of these parties among many other things that reminded Hen of why she hated nobility. She shivered, resisting the urge to bolt. Emet-Selch tapped a clawed hand against his chin, examining her with such a scrutiny Hen felt she was being stripped.

“Did a friend or family member bring you with them, hoping that riding on their coattails would be enough?” he purred. “Lured by the lights and sounds of luxury? Or perhaps,” Emet-Selch trailed off, hand sliding up from her shoulder to oh so gently grasp her chin. “You are a little thief, hoping borrowed finery will conceal your selfish intent.” His eyes were like knives in the hands of a glutton, sharp, hungry and all but ready to rip her apart. Hen could only gulp, trying not to shake. “I’m waiting my dear.” came the soft croon.

“Selch, you old bastard! Save a few lovely things for the rest of us!” A man she didn’t recognize came bounding over, a fanged crimson mask hiding his face. Emet-Selch turned to face him and Hen swore she saw a scowl lining his features.

“Nabriales, if you had even a shred of tact perhaps you wouldn’t have to beg others for their table scraps.” he hissed, fingers holding her chin loosening. Never one to look a gift chocobo in the beak, Hen pulled away, taking a few steps away before finally bolting.

Pushing her way through the crowd wasn’t easy, but somehow she managed, escaping to the doorway. She only stopped once she was in the hallway proper, the burning of her lungs taking her by surprise as her back pressed against the wall. Hen pushed her mask up to her bangs, allowing herself a moment of calm as the hammering of her heart settled into its usual beat.

Hesitantly peeking around the doorway, the sight of Emet-Selch wagging his finger at the other man greeted her. She sighed with relief, a hand over her heart. Thank goodness for his arrival, as much as Hen felt bad about that man’s situation, Emet-Selch would be distracted. Hopefully long enough for her to begin.

* * *

After peering into her fifth room (which also housed the third couple she walked in on having sex), Hen was having regrets. Why had she agreed to this? This was Thancred’s forte, not hers. The damned relic would only activate with the application of aether, and with Thancred stripped of his, it meant the only one capable was her.

At the very least, she did blend in as well as he would have. And as she passed her sixth mirror, Hen found she quite liked her reflection. But her reflection would get her no closer to the relic, and as Hen opened the door to yet another empty den, she was growing quite irritated.

“Ah, there you are.” A familiar voice called and Hen’s blood ran cold, whirling. Right in front of the fireplace, lounging on a sofa was Emet-Selch. There was a huff of air from him and he stood up. “I must admit, finding you was a most frustrating task.”

Hen blinked, taking a step back. How was he here? She imagined he could have ran, but he didn’t even look winded. Was there a secret aetheryte system in the manor? That wouldn’t surprise her. But what did surprise her, was the sudden click of a door shutting behind her, wood pressing firm against her back. In front, Emet-Selch stopped, one hand on the doorknob as the other laid against the door.

“But where were we my little bird?” He chuckled, his free hand calmly taking her wrists and pinning them above her head. Hen barely heard him, heart practically in her throat. The way he trapped her was far, far too intimate and she could feel the heat rising from her cheeks. “Ah, I remember. You were going to tell me why you snuck in uninvited.”

Hen’s mouth ran dry, unable to even whimper, let alone speak. Not that she would, everyone was counting on her. Emet-Selch’s lips curled upward. “If it’s fun you wanted, you may have it.” she felt his laugh more than heard it, beak of his mask chilly against the shell of her ear. “If you intend to steal from the hand that feeds you however...you will find I am not so merciful.” the threat sent a hot shiver down her spine and Hen shut her eyes, shaking her head. 

He let out a dramatic sigh, the heat of his breath fanning against her neck. “So silent, whatever am I to do with you?” a hot tongue swept across her neck and she yelped, head thumping against the door. Emet-Selch laughed once more and she could feel the curl of his lips against her skin. “Ah, have I found the way to interrogate you?” he lapped at her neck once more, lips closing around a patch of skin before his teeth sunk in.

Hen moaned softly, struggling to keep her eyes open. She found Emet-Selch staring at her, a not-quite smile playing at those lips. His eyes were intent, pupils blown. He was as riled up by this as she was. A split second plan came to her and before she could even stop herself, Hen leaned forward, mouth closing over his.

A soft, startled noise was the only reply she received before those lips opened with a growl, tongue eagerly seeking hers out. The kiss was heated from the very beginning, Emet-Selch was ravenous in his motions, pushing her more firmly against the door as his teeth worried at her bottom lip. It was so tempting to simply give in and lose herself in the kiss and forget everything. Hen felt claws in her hair and smiled, her hand finding the knob to the door.

She pulled away with a gasp, smirking as Emet opened his eyes, confusion writ across his face. “Catch me and I’ll tell you.” the knob turned and she opened the door. Center of balance upset, Emet stumbled forward. Hen ducked out of the way, unable to stop the laugh that escaped her lips as he gave her an incredulous look.

* * *

In the moment, Hen was only a little sorry. But now she’d managed to pass through another two halls, anxiety was starting to set in. Why hadn’t she found the relic yet? What would happen if Emet found her again? But before she could even consider any other hypotheticals, the sound of footsteps had her kneeling behind a pillar.

“This way, no one will know.” a masculine voice, one she faintly recognized came from the side. A woman giggled, seemingly following him. A door opened and more footsteps reached her ears before the same door slammed shut, muffled moans escaping.

Hen felt her cheeks heat up beneath her mask as her eyes rolled. Another amorous couple, the fourth she’d had the ‘pleasure’ of overhearing. But where were they? And could they see her? From where she was hidden, she couldn’t tell. That didn’t stop her from rising, peering ‘round the pillar.

The coast seemed clear, naught but an empty hallway. Another (louder) moan came from behind the door and Hen tried to will away the heat pooling beneath her navel. A flash of something dark caught her eye and she stood.

Something slipped through an open door and Hen couldn’t shake the sight of feathers from her mind. She had to move, the faster she found the relic, the faster she could leave. Hen crept as quietly as she could, each click of her heels sounding more like the ringing of a bell, so much so she could practically feel it reverberating through her- The relic!

Hen stopped, whirling. ‘Shtola had managed to pinpoint how the relic would resonate with aether; the application creating a sound similar to a bell ringing. It came from the room in front of her, door opened. She bit her lip, this reeked of a trap but she couldn’t feel the presence of anything beyond the relic. Before she could second guess, Hen grabbed her skirts and jogged forward, pushing the door open with her shoulder.

The room reminded her of a museum, full of objects on display. Hen wanted to examine each one, wanted to learn more of them. But she was only here for one, and as she ran, she could feel it tugging her forward. Hen smiled, all she had to do now was grab it and teleport back to safety.

Gloved hands reached out for glass, a rustle came from behind her and the next thing Hen knew, arms enveloped her, one hand clamping over her mouth as the other held her arms to her sides. A hot breath fanned over the shell of her ear, morphing into a sickeningly familiar laugh.

“Caught you.”

The dawning realization was like a bucket of water dumped over her head, cold shocking her into freezing. The cloak, it was Emet-Selch’s. He laid the simplest of traps and she’d fallen for it like a child. Emet pulled her closer to him and Hen could feel his cloak licking at her shoulders. She knew better than to struggle, but it didn’t stop her.

He only laughed, the sound laden with an emotion she couldn’t quite parse. What she could parse however, was the feeling of something hard pressing against her backside and the thickening of aether in the air. Belatedly, she recognized the tug of a teleportation spell, unable to do anything but let herself be taken.

* * *

Awareness came to Hen slowly, as if the spell was unwilling to let her free. As her vision unfogged, she dimly recognized her surroundings as the den from earlier. A spike of heat ran through her as Emet brushed against her, dragging his clothed erection over her backside.

“Now…by the terms we...discussed, you are going to answer my questions.” His voice came out in husky breaths, claws digging at her skin as he whirled her around. There was something deep and feral in his eyes and Hen shivered. “Then again,” he purred, suddenly pushing her backward. Hen found herself falling against a bed, crawling onto it on sheer instinct. Emet unclasped his cloak, letting it fall around his shoulders as he followed after her. “...I knew full well what you were after.”

She opened her mouth in shock and no sooner had her lips parted, Emet’s tongue wormed past them. He kissed her just like before, ravenous and greedy. Hen wrapped her arms around his neck, throwing any and all cares to the wind. Task failed, she saw no point in resisting her host’s charms.

One clawed hand buried itself in her curls, the other trailing down her bodice. Fabric ripping had her opening her eyes, pulling from Emet’s lips to find him tearing through her skirts, claws cupping the swell of her thigh, encouraging her to lift them. Heels clattered as she kicked them off, thighs rising to squeeze his hips. Emet rocked forward, hard beneath that velvety suit and Hen moaned, head thrown back.

Teeth sank into her neck and that moan became a sharp cry, fingers digging into the soft locks of Emet’s hair and pulling. He purred and Hen tugged again if only to hear that sound turn into something desperate.

“By His grace, I am going to ruin you.” she felt the growl against her lips as much as she heard it, claws gentle at her wrists as they were pulled up above her head. Aether prickled and coalesced into bindings, winding ‘round her wrists with enough give to keep her blood circulating through her veins while holding fast.

The metal of those claws were cold against her overheated skin as Emet ghosted his hand down her arm, other fiddling with the clasp of her train to wrest it from her, fabric ripping noisily with the tug. His hands fell to the neckline of her gown, gaze predatory.

“What are you-” before she could even finish, Emet tore at her dress, pulling off long ribbons of destroyed fabric with the fervor of a child unwrapping a gift. Hen gasped, sputtering sounds that could have become words as he made quick work of her dress and its layers.

It wasn’t long before he’d stripped her down to her underthings; brasserie swapped out with a corset tied tight enough to keep her breasts from falling from the low neckline of her dress, but loose enough to allow her to breathe and simple tights replaced with lacy, almost sheer stockings held up with a garterbelt. Hen could feel the hunger in Emet’s gaze as he took in her form, tongue laving over teeth that reminded her far too much of fangs.

Claws tore her smalls from her and Hen whimpered, attempting to shut her legs. Emet was too fast, grabbing her thighs and wrenching them apart with a firm grip, looking down at her exposed sex.

“Ah, so wet already. Is this what excites you my dear? Being tied down and stripped, laid bare to the enemy?” His voice was a sinful purr, leaning forward. The beak of his mask brushed over her abdomen and Hen shuddered as hot breaths fanned over her folds, not nearly enough stimulation and she tried to buck her hips into that evil, evil mouth.

“Ah ah ah, none of that now little bird. You’re in need of punishment.” He let go for a mere moment, a clear snap ringing out in the room (how did he even snap his fingers with those claws?) and all at once her vision was overtaken by darkness.

Panic overtook her, only to die down upon recognizing the feeling of fabric over her eyes. A hand pulled her mask up and off of her and she heard it clatter on the floor. Arms scooped Hen up, depositing her on the floor.

Emet tugged at her hair and Hen leaned into his touch, scooting forward. The velvety softness of his suit brushed over her shoulders, only realizing what was going on when hard, hot flesh pressed against her lips.

“Open your mouth.”

Hen did so obediently, a soft moan quickly muffled as his cock slid into her mouth. Without her sight, she only had her sense of touch to rely on and what it told her was the member gliding against her tongue was thick, gently nudging at the back of her throat.

She tried to open her throat, but it was simply something out of her reach and she gagged, tears pricking at her eyes. Emet sighed, pulling back somewhat. “I suppose even you have your limits  _ hero _ .”

Fingers curled at the back of her head, holding her steady as his hips bucked upward with a low moan, slowly thrusting his cock past her lips. Hen tried to bob her head up and down his length, but his grip was tight, not letting her move even an ilm. At the very least, she could still suck, lapping at the shaft with wet swirls of her tongue, moaning around him.

Emet’s fingers flexed in her hair and she could feel the muscles of his thighs tightening, clearly trying to keep himself from hurting her. Hen sucked at the vein just below his glans and earned a sharp thrust for her efforts, head of his cock bumping at the back of her throat.

“Lord Zodiark above, do not tempt me.” he groaned, voice nearly breaking when she tongued that same vein, moaning against it. Emet growled and she felt both his hands at her head, claws threatening to prick her scalp as he suddenly drove in as deeply as he could. Unable to move, Hen could do nothing as his cock finally pushed into her throat. She gagged on pure reflex, throat trying to dislodge the intrusion only to fail.

Emet wasted no time, thrusts savage and quick as he fucked her face in earnest, balls slapping against her chin. “Is this what you want my dear?” he panted, “You want me to treat you like a common whore? Then I’ll do just that.” the snarl sent shivers down Hen’s spine, finding herself growing wet at the harsh treatment..

She shifted, trying to find something to grind against, if only to dull the ache in her pussy. Emet laughed, hands moving to cup her cheeks.

“What a sight you are, debauched and craving more. Oh, how I wish I could frame this image on the wall.” His condescending tone did nothing to quell the flame in her belly, it only served to galvanize it. Her wrists tugged at their bindings, trying to break free so she could at least finger herself. Emet tutted, cock twitching as he pulled free of her mouth. Hen tried to chase it, a pitiful, ragged cry leaving her.

“Please…” she gasped weakly. “Please, I need it.”

Emet sighed. “Whatever am I to do with you?” a thumb brushed over her cheek affectionately and Hen leaned into the touch. “But who am I to deny you when you beg so sweetly?” She was pulled upward, fabric rustling as he settled her in his lap before dragging her down his cock. Hen cried out in delight, the girth of his shaft finally satisfying the burn of pleasure. Emet only laughed, claws digging into her hips as he began.

There was no finesse or gentleness in their movements, too riled up for anything beyond raw fucking. Hen managed to get her bound hands around his neck to pull him in for a kiss, clash of tongue and teeth devoid of any tenderness.

Emet came first, a low, torrid moan leaving him as he filled her with seed, warmth threatening to leak out of her core. She’d follow soon after, when claws reached down to toy with her clit. A warm, satiated feeling washed over her, Emet turning to lay her back against the bed.

“Sweet dreams, Warrior of Light.” the words were whispered into her neck, but not before he bit into her neck, teeth threatening to puncture skin. Hen wanted to startle, but exhaustion held her in its claws, fabric covering her body being the last thing she was aware of.

* * *

It was birdsong, that woke her up. Hen groaned, her body all too eager to begin aching all at once, denying her sleep. Her eyes opened slowly, marveling at how different the room seemed in the morning light.

She sat up with a wince, body protesting with each motion. Something was in her arms and Hen looked down. A stone tablet, unfamiliar letters carved into it. The relic she needed for the Scions. Her gaze turning to her arms, familiarity with the fabric nagged at her. A cape cut into feathers…

Hen’s cheeks lit up, remembering the night before. She pulled the cape off and gasped, her skin a litany of scratches, bruises and bitemarks. It was only after she noted the tears in her stockings and the subsequent strips of fabric that she dimly recognized as her gown did Hen realize something.

Tataru was going to kill her for ruining the dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious, Hen's outfit is themed after the oriental magpie whereas Emet is a bearded vulture.
> 
> Both birds are scavengers and I wanted them to match without the theme being too obvious.


	8. Live for the Fight (day seven)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 - Scent+Aphrodisiacs/Supernatural Hunters!AU
> 
> At the end of the day, at least they made it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The consent in this particular chapter is a bit dubious due to both of them being hit with aphrodisiacs, but just know that in any other circumstance, consent is asked for and given.
> 
> Also some mild degradation.

Definition of a “good fight”:

No one’s dead, there’s no property damage and both of them go home fairly okay, maybe banged up but definitely not nursing wounds that are going to linger. But after the demon threw another car door at them, Hen was willing to settle for sending the demon back with the two of them in one piece.

On paper, this was an incubus; the guy who called them had a feeling about it and Emet’s weird demon sense said so. Yet the hulking beast hissing at them didn’t register as an incubus in Hen’s mind.

It looked far too insectoid, mandibles where she imagined lips should be, scythelike appendages instead of arms with antennae upon its head. Perhaps this one appealed to the niche of niche fetishes, like how some decided to alter themselves to look like anthropomorphic animals.

What would one even call a furry who liked bugs?

“Focus dear,” Emet’s voice pulled Hen from her thoughts, looking up to see him scribbling magical seals into his sketchbook, recognizing them as the ones for banishment. “Draw its attention long enough for me to get the banishing sigil ready.” Some people chose to be vanguards like Hen did. Others were seemingly born to do it, like Emet. The best spellcaster their city had seen, some of the oldtimers considered him the best period. And somehow he chose her out of all the rest.

Hen nodded, her fingers clutching tight around her bat as the insectoid incubus chittered, stepping around the parking lot. It showed up in the middle of a park, and the hut had led them to behind one of the random cars that was seemingly left there. The incubus’s mandibles chittered, head swiveling in their direction. Hen grit her teeth as she rose from her crouch to jump onto the hood of the car, using it as a launching point as she leapt at the incubus, bat aimed for an arm.

There was a sickening squelch as her weapon struck home, knocking the appendage clean off. Her feet skidded to a stop on the gravel as she caught her bearings, lining up a swing to crack its ribs. The incubus let out a hellish screech, one that took her off guard long enough for something to swipe her, sending Hen to the ground. She felt something heavy press firmly against her chest, bat clattering a few inches away from her.

A loud hiss had Hen opening her eyes, finding her vision full of the incubus pinning her down with its remaining arm, tail lashing behind it. Of fucking course it had a tail. It leaned forward, mandibles far too close to her neck for comfort.

“Let her go!”

Emet had come out from behind the car, sketchbook in one hand and holy molotov cocktail in the other. Hen wasn’t a caster(not by a long shot), but even she could feel the rage simmering in his aura, as if the glare wasn’t enough. The incubus stopped, eyes swiveling towards him.

It stared at Emet for a long time and if Hen didn’t know any better, she’d assume the demon was sizing him up. Then all at once, it let out a guttural noise. It wasn’t until Hen felt her brain itch did she realize it was speaking. Emet’s eyes narrowed, glare somehow growing deadlier.

Emet could understand demonic speech, seemingly since he was able to understand human speech if his long talks with her were correct. It was part of what made Emet such a skilled vanguard, sometimes they could circumvent fights entirely thanks to his ability. Hen wasn’t able to speak their language, but she knew enough body language to know that whatever it said was enough to get Emet angrier.

“No.” he hissed, taking a step forward. “But I really don’t care. Now get off my partner and perhaps we can solve this civilly.” The hand with the molotov cocktail shook, as if he was getting ready to throw it anyway. The incubus’s arm pressed harder and Hen winced, trying to shy away from it. The scythelike portion of the arm was pointed away from her, but its speed meant one wrong move would be her last. Hen gulped, arm surreptitiously feeling for her bat.

The demon began to speak again and Hen froze, eyes shutting with a whimper as she felt something wet and slimy run up her neck, skin burning where the slime had touched. She opened her eyes hesitantly to see the incubus’s tongue waggling in front of her, slime dripping onto her face. Hen’s stomach churned, it wasn’t hard to figure out what the incubus was after and she wanted no part of it.

Emet let out a low, almost inhuman snarl as he threw the molotov straight at the demon’s face. An unholy shrieking noise followed, incubus writhing in pain. The moment it let go of her, Hen grabbed her bat, shakily rising to her feet. She could see Emet attempting to back away from the blinded incubus, his eyes growing wide. The incubus spat out a glob of slime, hard enough that it sent her partner to the ground.

“Go back to hell you fucker!” One moment Hen was screaming, the next her bat was sailing through the air, the incubus’s head rolling on the ground as the rest of its body crumbled into dust. Her hands shook as she dropped her weapon, running towards her downed partner.

“H-Hen are you-” he stammered, but she just shook her head, arms wrapped tight around him.

“I’m sorry, I just saw red the moment it struck and I just-” she babbled, pulling away from him. Beyond some burns, there was no trace of the slime on him, yet his pupils seemed blown. “Are you okay?” she asked, adrenaline washing away to leave anxiety in its place. She extended a hand, only to retract it..

“I’m fine.” he replied curtly, and Hen lowered her hand, sitting back onto her haunches. “Find our client and tell him our job’s done, I’ll meet you at the car.” Hen immediately shook her head.

“Like hell I am! Look you’re burnt, we gotta ice it or something.” Most of it had seemingly got his forehead and she reached out to wipe it away with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I said I’m fine!” There was a wild look in Emet’s eyes, somewhere between fury and something else that had Hen skittering backwards, only aware of his death grip on her wrist when her arm began to strain. He blinked, shuddering as he let her go. “Th-The demon’s slime...I think it’s a poison.” Emet’s voice shook, a hand pushing away sweat dampened hair.

“Then if you’re poisoned I need to stay,” Hen retorted. “Look I know you’re the expert here but-”

“Hen please.” Emet grasped her wrist once more, grip loose. She froze, the desperation in his voice uncharacteristic. “...I need you to walk away. Don’t look back, tell our client that the job is done and wait in the car. I-I’ll come find you once I’m ready.” Hen can’t remember the last time he sounded this frightened and it unnerved her.

“Okay.” She stood up on shaky legs, nodding. Her steps were halting as she picked up her bat, hearing Emet groan painfully. “Emet?” Hen whirled, yet she couldn’t see him.

“I-I’m fine! Nothing to worry about!” He replied, voice strained. Hen frowned, holding her bat tighter. Another groan, more painful than the last one and Hen had to force herself to walk forward, her back towards him. When her feet hit grass, she heard something that sounded far too close to a strangled scream. She stopped, about to turn when-

“Don’t look back!” Emet’s voice sounded...strange, she couldn’t put a finger on it. Hen looked ahead of her, towards the park ranger’s office. She swayed for a moment, noting how oddly hot she felt as she shuffled forward. Something inhuman growled behind Hen and the forming sweat on her brow ran cold.

Another demon? With her and Emet separated the both of them were sitting ducks. Instinct kicked in and she bolted, trying to fight the sudden heavy feeling that overtook her. Hen was faintly aware of footfalls behind her and before she could even look back she felt something grab her.

“Got you.”

The demon(?) sent the two of them to the ground, her bat flying out of her hands and falling half a foot away from her. Hen reached out a hand, only for a much larger clawed arm to overlap her limb, keeping it away from her weapon. Two arms wrapped around her waist securely, while the other massive limb pinned her other arm. She struggled weakly, freezing as a hot breath fanned over her neck. She could hear a rumble from the demon above and hips rolled into her backside, feeling a large bulge grind against her.

Her legs spread on sheer instinct, inhaling the smell of woodsmoke and exotic spices. A shudder ran through Hen and only then was she aware of just how wet she was. Oh, right. The saliva of incubi and succubi were an aphrodisiac, meant to help lure in prey. Was this one working with the other? She struggled again, trying to worm free-

“Tell me to stop.” it spoke with Emet’s voice and Hen froze. She turned her head to look back but a claw pushed her head forward. “N-No, don’t. I don’t want you to see me like this.” There was a sincerity in the voice and somehow Hen just knew. Yet Emet’s voice had to be at least an octave deeper, sending a hot pulse down her spine. “The incubus...it- Hen I’m a demon as well and...” he trailed off with a growl, rutting against her. “Please, I can’t control myself.” Hen stared at the ground, trying to take everything in. All she could feel was Emet surrounding her, holding her tight and he was all she could smell. Smell…

She breathed in, shaking as that smell washed over her. Normally Emet smelled like ocean water, old parchment and lemons. But this...This was the smoke of wood, spices that reminded her of Thavnarian curry at two am...and all it did was arouse her. Before Hen could even think, she pressed back against him with a heady moan. Emet groaned, hips rocking into hers.

“Don’t tempt me...it’s taking everything in me not to tear your clothes to shreds.” he moaned. Hen shivered. Gods, he sounded nothing like this the previous times they’ve slept together. All she could do was shudder, a soft moan escaping her lips. Emet froze above her.

“...Oh, now you’ve done it.” the snarl was the only warning she got before his human-ish hands moved, claws messily tearing at her shorts. Hen yelped, any and all protests dying on her lips the moment she heard her tights rip loudly. “You are so, so fucking wet.” There was a teasing tone in Emet’s voice and gods, was it doing things to her. Claws tugged at her panties, snapping them clean off of her.

“E-Emet w-wa-Aaah.” Her protest was cut off as he grabbed her hips, thrusting his cock against her slit. As familiar as she was with his cock, what was passing between her thighs was brand new. It was thicker, longer, the shaft textured while ridges lined the head. A swell about the size of her fist sat at the base and her pang of want was almost painful when she realized exactly what it was. Her partner had a knotted cock and at that moment all she wanted was it inside of her.

“I can smell your lust.” He panted, forked tongue teasing at the shell of her ear. “Smell how badly you want me to fuck you.” Those human-like hands spread the lips of her pussy apart, head of his cock lining up with her. “Beg for it.”

“Please.” Hen breathed, feeling lightheaded from the smell of him. “Please fuck me.”

“As you wish.” Nothing about the thrust was slow or gentle. It was quick, fierce and deep and Hen cried out, her inner walls struggling to accommodate the new girth of his cock. He only stopped when his knot slapped against her folds with a lewd sound, hips not quite flush against hers. He moaned, the claws at her hips digging into her skin. “Holy shite your pussy’s like heaven.” Emet breathed. Hen only nodded, her arms shifting to hold herself up. So full already and he wasn’t even hilted inside of her, there was no way she was going to take his knot.

“I’m going to move now.” The warning wasn’t much of a courtesy as he started thrusting almost immediately with the word ‘now’. At the very least, Emet was starting slow, each and every thrust careful and deep, pulling out to only leave the head of his cock inside before sliding inch after tortuous inch in until the knot was pressing against her folds, rubbing right against her clit.

Hen arched her back, fingers scrambling to dig into the grass. Emet picked up gradually, panting hot fans of breath across her neck as his skin slapped against hers each time their hips were flush, growling each time he couldn’t get his knot in her. 

He’d never fucked her like this before, their prior bouts of love making were passionate yes but it always seemed like he was being careful with her, as if afraid of crossing boundaries. But this...this was rough, feral, riding that oh so addictive line between pleasure and pain and gods she wanted more. Teeth suddenly sunk into her neck and Hen moaned loudly. Emet laughed behind her, tongue lavishing over the bite.

“You tighten up when I do that. Is this what I needed to do to really rile you up? Pin you down and take you like a bitch in heat?” Hen shuddered, moaning. Emet wasn’t a stranger to dirty talk but degradation was new and why did it get her even wetter? He seemed to take notice, if the sinister laugh behind her meant anything.

“Oh you definitely like that don’t you? Don’t even bother to deny it, I can feel how wet you are.” Emet crooned behind her, the pace of his thrusts staggering. The claws at her hips twitched, curling as he moaned lowly, body stilling as he reached climax, filling her with hot cum. It was seemingly never ending, Hen could swear she could feel rivlets of it escaping her full core to drip down her thighs.

She wasn’t sure when exactly it ended, but Emet was muttering under his breath as he pulled out. Before Hen could even say anything, she was being flipped over. When her eyes refocused, she was staring right up at Emet once more, eyes widening as she took in the transformation.

Horns peaked out from behind his hair, just above his forehead. They were long, gnarled things, at least a foot long. His ears were pointed, just a touch longer. Emet sighed and Hen got a glimpse of a long forked tongue laving over fangs. There was an oddly playful, malicious glint in Emet’s eyes as he pushed her legs back, thighs pressing against her chest as he slung her legs over his, pinning her easily. Hen flushed deeply, realizing exactly where he had her.

One of his massive claw-like hands took hold of her wrists, pulling them up above her head while the other gently tugged her shirt up, before simply cutting her bra in half.

“H-Hey!” she yelped. “That bra was expenc-” she cut herself off with a moan as he wrapped his tongue around a breast, tip flickering against her nipple. Emet’s cock lined up with her entrance once more and before she could even protest, he was slamming into her. Hen arched her back with a loud cry, eyes shutting as he began savagely thrusting once more.

Emet sighed, tongue tracing up her neck. He was somehow reaching deeper into her than before, each thrust stirring up the cum already inside of her, pushing it out to leak down her thighs. Hen panted, body overloaded with sensation.

“A-ah, ha- Em-Emet! P-Please!” She wasn’t quite sure what she was begging for exactly, but he seemed to understand all the same, leaning down for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss. Hands found her breasts, squeezing the flesh as the ridges of his cock passed over her g-spot and she was undone, her vision and awareness completely blanking out underneath what had to be her most intense orgasm, mind floating in warm pleasure that lasted for what felt like an eternity.

When Hen came to, she was aware of being wrapped in something warm. She burrowed her head into the feeling, smelling ocean water and lemons. Her eyes opened wide, looking up to see Emet dozing off. His horns were gone, monstrous arms gone and his original pair no longer ending in sharp claws. Eyelids fluttered, and his gold eyes stared into her own.

“Oh, I was wondering when you’d wake up again.” he murmured sleepily, letting go. Sitting up, Hen could see the faint light of dawn breaching the treeline, hugging herself in the early morning chill. “We may have gotten a bit carried away.” Emet trailed off, a hand over the bottom half of his face, trying to hide the flush that reached even his forehead. Hen just smiled, climbing up into his lap. Aside from a few tears in his shirt, he’d fared better than she did in regards to clothes.

Emet looked her up and down, flush deepening. “Gods, I did a number on you.” he looked away sheepishly and Hen laughed, turning his head towards hers.

“That, was quite possibly the best sex we’ve ever had.” she confessed, arms wrapping around his neck as she bumped her lips against his. Emet blinked, taken aback.

“R-Really? Even after I called you those horrible things?” he stammered. Hen nodded.

“Yup.” she gave him a cheeky grin. “Any chance we could do it like that again?” Emet looked away.

“M-Maybe.” his arms encircled her backside and he stood, easily carrying her in his arms. Hen flushed, arms and legs wrapping around him with a sheepish giggle. “Let’s head home first, before anyone sees us.”

The walk back to the car was uneventful, too early in the morning for anyone else. It wasn’t until they were turning out to leave the parking lot that they remembered.

The client hadn’t been notified of the mission’s success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gist of the conversation between the incubus and Emet is the incubus asking if Emet knows about his demonic heritage before asking if he wants to split Hen between the two of them.
> 
> For those curious, Hen smelled like petrichor, citrus and fresh linens to Emet while he was aphro'd.


	9. Stand So Close to Me (day eight)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A liaison between a professor and his teaching assistant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I still tag this as kinktober even though I'm halfway through December? Eh, who cares.
> 
> Also this collection of filth has 100 kudos on it and 2k views. Allow me to be sappy for a moment and thank all of you for reading my work.

<strike>Don’t</strike> Stand So Close to Me

From where she was pinned, Hen could see the quizzes the students handed in. She wasn’t sure who had left theirs on top of the pile, only that they’d answered question two wrong. Why was it that everytime someone didn’t know the answer they just went with option C?

“Emet, this answer’s filled in wrong.” she panted. His only response was to slap her ass, earning him a sharp squeak.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d not go over our students’ work while I’m fucking you.” he huffed, punctuating each word with a sharp, deep thrust. Hen’s toes curled in her loafers, arching her back as a well timed thrust hit her sweet spot.

“Better darling?” Emet crooned. Hen’s only reply was a sweet reedy cry. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He slowed down, clearly aware that his quick rutting wasn’t exactly doing it for her, opting for slow, sinuous rolls of his hips that had her clutching at the desk for dear life.

Last semester, Hen had been offered a spot as Professor Selch’s teaching assistant in exchange for paying off some of her student loans. Being a broke university student, she leapt at the chance.

Architecture wasn’t something she was interested in, but the way Selch taught; he practically wove buildings into being just with his lectures and enthralled those taking his class...and his TA. Hen wasn’t sure when she fell for him...but she knew damn well when she realized it, finding herself wet after lectures.

Similarly, she wasn’t sure when he noticed her infatuation, only sure of when he decided to do something by way of pinning her to the office door and kissing her. Thus began a secret dance, shared between the two of them.

Experimentation revealed that the easiest method of sneaking about was between classes or while grading papers. No one had any reason to suspect foul play between a professor and his assistant during those times.

Emet pulled out of her and she whined, noise cut off as he picked her up to hoist her rump onto the desk. “A-Are you sure about this?” Hen murmured, her arms wrapping around him.

“It’s sturdy.” was the only verbal reply he gave, opting to rake his nails down her tights, shredding them. “...This has to be what? Pair six?” he questioned.

“Seven.” Hen corrected. “Pair six was ruined during the field trip, had me on my hands and knees on stone.”

“Ah, now I remember. Didn’t you say you tripped when someone asked about the scrapes on your knees.” Emet purred, kissing at her jaw and moving downward, ending at her collarbone. Hen could only nod, giggling breathlessly.

“You’re lucky they’re cheap.” she chided, crying sweetly when his hand cupped between her thighs. Two of his fingers rubbed between her lower lips, thumb swirling at her clit. “E-Emet…” she shuddered, back arching.

“Yes my dear?” the innocence in his tone clashed with the smoldering expression on his face and the sinful motions of his fingers. Hen could only whimper, gasping with a buck of her hips.

“Please -” any more she had to say was quickly swallowed up by his lips, hand supporting the back of her head while he lined his cock up with her entrance. Her arms wrapped around Emet, attempting to pull him closer. He went slowly this time, thrust surprisingly gentle as he pushed until he was hilted inside of her. Hen’s toes curled once more, legs rising to wrap loosely around his waist.

“Ready?” Emet purred against her lips. Hen nodded. Emet only started slow this time, quickly picking up to his prior pace of harsh fucking that had her clutching onto his back for dear life. Facing him meant the flat of his abdomen could rub against her clit, albeit never more than teasing brushes, but it was more than enough to have her shuddering and moaning.

The hand at the back of her head traveled downward, fingers splaying across her back before stopping at her hip to pull up her shirt enough to get his hand beneath the fabric, fingers greedily squeezing her breast.

“H-ha, Emet,” she cut herself off with a sharp cry as he pinched her nipple between two fingers, rolling the hardened nub. “If you keep this up I’m gonna-” she panted, rocking her hips against his.

Emet just smirked, squeezing her flesh again. “Well, don’t hold off on my account.” He murmured, biting at her bottom lip before kissing her once more. The sensory onslaught of tongue, teeth, fingers and cock proved too much to bear, Hen cried into the kiss as orgasm overtook her, inner walls tightening around his length.

He pulled away, breathless groan passing through his lips as he shuddered, preparing to pull out. Hen just tightened her legs around him “Nope.” she whispered cheekily, licking a stripe up his neck. The roll of Emet’s hips came to a staggered stop and she shivered, the feeling of his hot seed filling her was oh so wonderful in the afterglow.

Emet moaned, head slumping over her shoulder as he gave a few more token thrusts before pulling his softening cock free of her walls. Hen smiled softly, a hand running up and down his back.

“I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no. I’m on birth control.” Hen chirped, unable to hold back her laugh as his shoulders slumped in relief.

“By His Grace, you’re going to give me a heart attack.” Emet groused, looking up at her. “Do you have any idea the measure of fallout we’d be facing if I got you pregnant?” Hen just smiled, her fingers moving to dip into her sore sex. She felt full of warmth, even long after he’d pulled out.

“A bit I imagine.” she sighed, pulling her fingers free to lap up whatever cum remained on her fingers. “Can you come inside of me next time too?” Emet sighed, rolling his eyes at her as he gathered some tissues.

“After we grade these papers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intentionally made Hen a student TA rather than Emet's student because while the student/teacher romance trope doesn't sit too well with me, I can definitely get behind why it's alluring.
> 
> This one's a bit shorter than the others, purely intentional as I planned to have this chapter out quickly in comparison to the others. And yet it still took me just as long.
> 
> [throws hands in air] I give up.


	10. What's New Pussycat? (day nine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9 - Pet Play/Urban Sorcery!AU
> 
> Summary: First rule of dealing with summoned entities; leave them no leg room to twist requests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less petplay and more transforming into catgrils, but eh, I'm not complaining.

It was one of the first rules of their particular path; Leave no leg room for the summoned.

In theory, it was a simple enough spell. They had the right materials, the circle was drawn with the utmost care and they’d gone over the words they’d use long before it was time. It was foolproof.

The plan was to barter with a cat spirit, ask for its attributes for a time. If this experiment worked, they’d enter a pact with the spirit.

No sooner had they begun the exchange, Hen felt odd. She brushed it off, assuming to be a side effect of the spell and yet once the spirit was gone...

In an instant, all of Hen’s senses were heightened. Sight, sound, smell, her clothes itched and she was halfway to getting her top off when hands closed over her own.

“Stop.” Emet’s voice came from behind, struggling to keep her from pulling from his grasp. “We overdid it, just hold still so I can-” a sharp gasp left him and Hen twisted, borrowed instincts taking over as she lunged.

She could faintly hear things being knocked over, a startled yelp and the next Hen knew, she had Emet pinned beneath her. He tried to struggle and she growled, leaning forward to scent him. He smelled the same as always; old parchment and citrus, but there was something sour to it, something…

“My dear, [come to your senses].” All at once, it was like a fog lifted from her mind. Hen gasped, pulling up and away, her hands freeing his.

“Oh my gosh, Emet I’m so sorry, I didn’t-” she babbled, only stopping when a hand found her head, thumb brushing against something furry that had her melting. A soft, pleased moan escaped her, leaning into the touch.

“It seems we were too vague in our request.” Emet continued, sitting up. “Or perhaps our spirit found a loophole.”

“Wh-What happened?” Hen asked drozily, a lazy smile curling her lips. Her partner huffed fondly, fingers finding the very tip of that fuzzy something.

“See for yourself.” his hand found her chin, turning it. Looking in the bathroom mirror, Hen’s eyes widened, pupils blowing impossibly large as she took in the ears atop her head, the claws at her hands and feet and the tail swishing behind her.

“It possessed me.” she realized.

“We asked for the attributes of a cat. We didn’t specify which.” he admitted, his smile sheepish. Hen blinked, her nose picking up an odd scent. She leaned closer to Emet, inhaling at his neck.

All at once, the smell was overwhelming. Sour, with notes of salt and the citrus she was so familiar with. A reflexive shudder ran down her back as she gently pinned him down. Emet’s eyes widened and the smell became stronger.

“H-Hen, darling wait-” he sputtered, hands reaching out for something. The shifting of their bodies was when she found it, pausing. She ground her bottom against his hips, as if trying to verify the feeling. His low groan was all she needed to know. Her smile turned dangerous, leaning forward.

“...I didn’t realize manhandling you so would turn you on.” she purred, quite literally so. She rocked against his growing erection, her own lust coiling between her thighs. Emet gasped, attempting to pull his arms out of her grip. Hen just purred, her claws digging in as she collected his wrists in one hand, her other trailing down his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” she simpered, gently tugging his clothes down to free his cock. Hen felt her mouth water at the sight of it, reaching out to stroke the shaft slowly. Emet threw his head back, thrusting into her grip with a shaky moan. She smiled, flicking her wrist at the very end of a stroke and Emet groaned loudly.

She laughed, tail swishing behind her as she pulled her shorts and underwear down, surprised to find her lower lips wet. “We need this huh? Both of us.” Hen murmured, lining herself up with him. Sinking down Emet’s cock felt amazing, inner walls stretching to accommodate the thickness of his shaft. He smirked, thrusting upward.

Hen cried out, back arching as she froze from the pleasure. Emet took advantage of her state and sat up, an arm at her back and one at her head. A hand stroked the base of her tail and she mewled, pleasure spiking as his fingers rolled her tail between them. His other hand found her ear, petting the spot where it met her skull. Hen’s head lolled backwards, a blissful hazy feeling overtaking her.

“Now who’s taking care of who hm?” Emet purred, thrusting upward with a slow roll of his hips. Hen could only moan, tail flicking wildly. Everything felt far, far too good, like she was floating in a warm sea of pleasure. Her inner walls clenched around him on sheer instinct. Emet smirked, leaning back and taking her with him. The hand at the base of her tail moved to her hip, slowly creeping up and underneath her tank top to play at her chest, coaxing another moan from her.

“You’re cute like this, putty in my hands.” he murmured, lazily rolling his hips whilst his fingers played with her ear. Hen could only pant, hips rocking up and down his cock seemingly on their own, walls clenching in time with his thrusts.

“H-Ha, Eme-Emet please…” she begged, not quite sure what she needed, just aware that she desperately wanted something. Emet smiled up at her, cupping her breast as his fingers found a nipple to toy with to hardening.

“What do you want my kitten? Want to cum? Want me to fill you?” he hummed lowly, another deep thrust bringing the head of his shaft to rub against her g-spot. Hen cried, hips chasing after that feeling. His smile turned malicious, the hand at her chest turning greedy.

“As you wish.” The roll of his hips picked up, every thrust intent on hitting her sweet spot. All Hen could do was writhe atop him, trying to match his pace as the pleasure built to a crescendo. A hand moved to the base of her tail (which one she wasn’t sure), a sharp tug timed perfectly with a thrust of his cock finally sending her over the edge.

She arched back, vision whiting out and stars popping behind her eyes from the intensity of it all, intensity that burned from her fingers down to her toes, spreading even to her ears and tail. Her inner walls clenched tight and Emet gave two more thrusts before his own release coated her insides white. When her climax subsided, Hen found herself laying against Emet’s chest, his hand idly stroking her back.

A lazy flick of her tail confirmed it’s existence, a shift of her hips finding his softening cock still buried deep within her.

“...How are we going to get this spell to wear off?” she asked, looking up at Emet.

“I’m guessing it’ll either wear off on its own, or we’ll have to contact that spirit again.” he answered, shifting beneath her. Hen shivered, his cock rubbing against her sensitive walls stirring her arousal to life, only now aware it of the simmering beneath her stomach.

“Mmm, or we could try something else.” Hen purred impishly, finding the strength to push herself up. She grasped Emets wrists gently yet firmly. His eyes widened, clearly taken off guard.

“A-And what are you planning?” he stammered. She only smiled, flicking her tail as she clenched around him. Emet let out an undignified squeak, hips bucking. “W-Wait, give me some more time to rest.” He tried to pull his arms from her grip, only to find Hen was much stronger than him in this state.

“You know, your first mistake was calling me a submissive kitten.” Hen smirked, leaning forward. A sinuous roll of her hips and Emet gasped, head thrown back.

“Pl-please, wait.” he panted, face quickly turning red. Hen only purred, tail flicking behind her as she bit his neck. Emet arched against her, a reedy moan slipping past his lips. Hen growled at his neck, leaning up to look him in the eye.

“After all,” she whispered impishly, coaxing another breathless moan from him. “A house cat is a domesticated predator.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it still a kinktober 2019 fic if it ain't even 2019 anymore? Eh, whatever. With this we're coming up on the double digits and I'm pretty excited.


	11. Le Bien Qui Fait Mal / The Good Thing that Hurts (day ten)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 - Hatesex/Superheroes+Supervillains!AU
> 
> Passion's definition; a strong, uncontrollable emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive trigger warning on this one for unhealthy relationship dynamics and dubious consent, also superhero violence, empty death threats and bad dom etiquette.
> 
> These two are actively trying to hurt each other as much as they're trying to fuck so please feel free to skip over this one for your well being.

It would happen, it always did.

Wording it like that however, made it seem like a coincidence, as if they didn’t actively seek each other out. Yet it wasn’t as if they were truly hunting each other down; they walked their familiar beats unconsciously, simultaneously knowing the other was going to be there.

Tonight was no different.

Five of the thirteen were there, undoubtedly undoing Mother’s hard work. And as it always seemed the case, he was there.

“Go on without me!” he shouted, staff slamming down to summon a barrier. His compatriots seemed taken aback and she wondered if they knew why he always volunteered to stay behind when it was her. She summoned another pair of chakrams, the pulse of energy thrumming in time with her heart beat.

With a whirl she tossed them, aiming for the weak points in the barrier and a sick satisfied feeling welled up in her upon seeing cracks spiderweb through it.

“Elder!” One of them shouted, fright clear in their voice. She just smirked, summoning a fresh pair. Golden eyes mirrored her own, a matching look of malice.

“I’m the one she wants. You lot run,” he winced, leaning against the barrier as if it would help at all. Their eyes locked and he bared his teeth. “While I deal with her.” his words came out in a hiss, sending a frisson of delight up her spine.

One of his masked compatriots nodded, gesturing to the others. She waited until they were gone to throw her chakrams, barrier shattering. Another slam of his staff and everything went black. Hen charged forward, hand outstretched as she tried to call another chakram to illuminate her path.

She only made it a few steps before hands grabbed her feet, holding them fast as more slithered up her body. Her hands were pulled above her head, held in one shadowy fist. Others would find the weak points in her armor, clawed fingers dipping beneath those points to rub against the bodysuit she wore underneath. One pressed itself between her sternum while two more found her hips, long fingers dipping dangerously close to her inner thighs.

It was there she knew exactly what kind of night she was in for. The hands lifted her, at least a foot off the ground. A snap of fingers and the lights turned back on. He was right in front of her now, staff in one hand as the other remained raised, fingers still coiled from the snap.

His new gear was dark, purple lines breaking up the black. A cowl and mask hid the face she knew all too well, and within moments, he was lowering both of them, rich brown hair contrasting starkly against the shock of white of his bangs.

“Elder?” she smirked. “Is that what they’re calling you now? What are you even the elder of? Betra-” a wave of his hand and a shadowy one wrapped over her mouth, muffling her.

“Silence. Like you’ve any ability to talk about betrayal.” he sneered, drawing closer. “But to answer your question, yes; I have abandoned my former name.” the word ‘name’ came out in a hiss. “You will address me as Waning Elder or…” he trailed off, cupping her chin as his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Master.” he purred and the claws of one of the shadowy hands dug into her inner thigh, enough to send a greedy pang of want through her. The hand at her mouth withdrew and she looked up at him.

“...What about Emet-” she began, only for the hand to gag her once more. Emet frowned, eyes cold and distant.

“I thought it was made very clear when we started, that our civilian names are forgotten once we don these masks.” His hand found the seams of hers, tugging it off of her head to free her red halo of curls. “You stop being Hen and become Astral Aether and I-” Emet chuckled, cupping her chin. “Well, you already know what to call me.” the hand over her mouth faded away and before she could even say anything else, his lips were on her own.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, all teeth and tongue with a fierce desire to dominate the other. Someone growled and Hen wasn’t sure who. She was however, certain that it was her who bit his lower lip, digging in until she tasted blood. Emet pulled back, glaring as he wiped the blood up.

“You, did you seriously-” he looked between his glove and her incredulously and Hen could only smirk, even as his hand found her jaw, claws threatening to puncture skin. “Didn’t I tell you before biting needed to be mutual?” he growled.

“Was that before or after backstabbing was allowed?” Hen answered. Emet let go and the next thing she knew she was flying. Her back hit the wall, lights popping behind her eyes as she slid downward. A hand stopped her decent, warm through the fabric. Ah, his own.

Emet loomed over her, pulling her up to look him in the eyes. Hen’s hands found his arm, more to steady herself than anything else.

(He’d never actually kill her, neither of them would. Doing so would end it all.)

“You betrayed us first my dear. Never forget that.” Emet crooned, his free hand finding the part in her chest guard. She could hear the fabric ripping beneath his claws and winced.

“D-Don’t, T-Tataru’s gonna kill me for ruining another-” he wretched the armor apart, the material noisily cutting her off. He made a show of holding it up before her, only to let it fall, leaving her in naught but the bodysuit beneath.

Emet’s fingers ghosted up her side and Hen slapped him. Almost immediately he let go, Hen taking advantage of the release to call another set of chakrams. He recovered all too quickly, Hen only had scant seconds to block his attack, chakrams grinding against the head of his staff with a metallic screech.

“You’re going to hit me? Me!? That bitch’s been poisoning your mind hasn’t-”

“I told you not to destroy it!” Hen shouted, breaking the block to send the chakrams flying. Emet deflected the first, but the second managed to tear a long gash in his robe. A hand went to his side, while Hen couldn’t see any blood, she’d definitely drawn some if his grimace meant anything.

Emet’s lips moved and the next thing Hen knew she was on the ground, shadowy arms holding her arms and legs down. He threw his staff aside, metal clicking to open up his robe, bearing a bodysuit similar to her own. As he knelt down on his hands and knees, a flash of white caught her eye.

A tear in the suit, no doubt from her own chakram, faint trickle of blood staining the suit darker. She mouthed an apology, and Emet responded by wrapping a hand around her neck.

“I could kill you.” he breathed, lips hovering above her own. “Snap your windpipe and leave you gasping futility for air, have my shadows tear you apart, run you through with my staff...so many ways to leave here with your sinew dirtying my robes and boots.” he’d never do it, it was all posturing, but his tone made the threat palpable, enough to keep the adrenaline pounding through her veins.

“Do it then.” she gasped, trying to ignore the arousal creeping through her as he gently squeezed, as if proving his point. “If you’re so confident that you can end me then just do it. Why wait?”

Emet’s answer was nonverbal, opting to instead lock their lips once more. This kiss was different from before, desperation clear in how his tongue danced against hers, the hand leaving her neck to thread through her hair.

Hen felt the shadows recede from her arms and she wrapped them around his neck, pulling him closer. A moan slipped between their lips, passed from one to the other. Emet’s free hand found her hip and Hen wrapped her legs around his waist, a cry leaving her as she bucked into his clothed erection.

“Em-Emet please,” she panted. What she was begging for she wasn’t certain. Emet gathered her hands, holding them above her head. A shadow limb seized her wrists, holding them as Emet’s hands trailed down her body. The claws of his gloves tore the suit at her collarbone and he tugged at them, pulling until the tear went past her navel, exposing dampening curls and flushed lower lips.

“You really are fucked up. I tell you I’m going to kill you and that gets you wet.” he laughed, claws ghosting up her stomach. Hen moaned, arching her back.

“And you’re just as hard. So we’re even.” she taunted, pressing herself firm against his erection. His expression hardened, claws tearing a part in his own suit from the sternum down, widening the gap to free his cock, already at full mast, the precum beading at the tip leaving Hen’s mouth watering.

He pressed the shaft between her lower lips, grinding against her.

“Beg.”

One word and her heart clenched. One word brought back simpler times; days spent training together, sharing an ice cream cone at the carnival that lead to their first kiss, driving out to the countryside with no real destination in mind, laying in the grass together, nights in each other’s rooms, bodies and souls bared for one another, hands tracing over every inch of skin, arguments boiling into the first time they turned their weapons on each other-

“Fuck you.” she whimpered, blinking back hot tears.

“No my dear,” a claw gently wiped those unshed tears away, care in his voice. “Fuck you.” Only for every ounce of warmth in his voice to turn cold as he speared into her with one thrust.

Hen screamed, the lack of preparation leaving her insides burning as the girth of his cock split her apart. He didn’t stop until he was hilted inside of her, their hips flush. Claws found her hips, threatening to break skin as he let her adjust.

She sobbed quietly, trying to bury her face into the crook of her arm. Emet leaned forward, tongue licking hot stripes up her neck. Hen shivered at the contact, eyes shut tight.

“Don’t-” she croaked. It was so much easier when they fucked, no kindness behind their actions, just desire and hate blurring into something more addictive than any drug on the street. Gentleness only reminded her of a man who wasn’t here anymore, the one who wore the face of the villain before her, rubbing salt into her wounded heart.

Emet’s tongue swirled around a nipple and Hen wailed, body arching into the feeling. Shadow limbs found her breasts as Emet pulled away, the hands squeezing and pulling at her flesh while his hips slowly picked up speed.

Hen moaned, head thrown back. Emet fucked into her like a man possessed, thrusts hard and deep, each one pounding against her sweet spot with brutal accuracy. Of course he’d remember everything that made her melt and cry out. Her toes curled in her boots, heels locked at the small of his back, never letting him pull too far back. Emet’s thrusts staggered and she knew he was close, rocking up into him.

A hand wrapped around her throat, claws digging into her skin. Hen gasped as he leaned closer, lips hovering over her own.

“Beg.” he hissed, grip around her throat tightening. A shadow hand descended upon her clit, pinching the nub between its claws. She whined, struggling to breathe. Her eyes opened to find Emet staring down at her, eyes unreadable as his thrusts slowed, only slightly brushing against her g-spot.

He was holding her on the edge and it sent her pulse racing. He wasn’t serious was he? A flicker of fear trickled in as her vision began to darken, warning sirens going off in her head as it spun.

She needed air, she needed to come, needed, she needed-

“Emet please!” the sound was ragged, tearing from her throat with what had to be the last of her breath. He let go and the rush of air in her lungs was enough to send her over the edge, inner walls tight around his cock. Both hands found their place at her hips, fucking her through the climax.

He let out a low moan and Hen’s eyes widened. She knew that sound all too well.

“D-Don’t, not inside, don’t you dare-” she rasped. Emet only sneered, hilting himself inside of her with a breathy groan, his eyelids fluttering shut as warmth filled her. Hen shut her eyes, trying not to relish in the feeling of his cum soaked her insides.

He remained inside of her until he was soft, pulling out with a satisfied sigh, human hands and shadow limbs retreating from her. Hen sat up on her elbows, eyes narrowed as she watched him shut his robe again. Before, sex like this was followed with heated blankets and hot chocolate, watching old cartoons. Sure he wouldn’t leave her like this-

“Here,” the tattered remains of her armor fell across her stomach. “Wouldn’t do well to come back with my seed leaking down your thighs now would it? Wouldn’t want them figuring you out.” Emet sneered, mask and hood back in their rightful place.

“I told you not to come inside of me, so whose fault is it that I’m a mess?” she growled, trying to get up on her feet, only to fall to her hands and knees. His hand found her chin, grip threatening to break her jaw.

“And who is the one still chasing after me, even after ratting me out to her dearest Mother? We’re even my dear.” He jerked his arm as he let her go, forcing her head to follow. Balance upended, Hen barely caught herself before her head hit the concrete. By the time she looked up again, he was gone.

It was a while before she rose again, wrapping the remains of her armor around her as she tried to ignore the small droplets of water at her feet. She’d return to the Scions, making up a story to justify the state she was in and the lack of returned villains.

Tataru would give her an earful about resources being tight, and would make Hen promise not to ruin more of her hard work. She’d promise, knowing full well the next time their scanners spotted him, she’d insist on going out alone to face him again.

And it would happen again, it always did.

She didn’t expect things to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, he went there.
> 
> The general concept behind this one was inspired by CardlinAudio's Different Directions...Same Destination series, but it rapidly took on a life of its own.
> 
> Hen (or Astral Aether)'s superhero outfit is based from Karin Miyoshi's hero garb from Yuki Yuna is a Hero, in a blue/white/black color pallet along with a more defined chest plate and the flower elements omitted. Emet as Waning Elder wears the typical Paragon robe and mask with most of the ornamental metal pieces removed. Claws stay though.
> 
> Surprisingly enough, this one took the shortest amount of time to write so far. Most of this chapter was written over the course of six to seven hours in one night, the rest being written the following night.

**Author's Note:**

> smb: it's like seven days into october why are you posting kinktober fills now?
> 
> me: because I can.
> 
> also smb: aren't you supposed to be working on the Emet-Selkie au?
> 
> also me: you shush I do what I want.


End file.
